Popstar Comics
by Smash King24
Summary: Dark Pit lands a job working at a comic book store, and as cool as that sounds...it really isn't. His co-workers are a bunch of nerds, his brother nags him to be more responsible, and to top it all off he's given up a life of freedom to sweep floors five days a week. He doesn't want to change, but the people in this city sure aren't making it easy for him. Slice-of-life, KuroxLucy
1. Prologue

Popstar Comics

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 **Author's Note:** A new story for a new year. And with a new year comes many changes.

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Prologue

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The past is in the past, or at least that's what they say. You're not supposed to go chasing after it like some desperate love struck teenager. I hate the way he says it to me though, telling me to _grow up_ , to take some responsibility. I'm making money so what does it matter? Oh, but that's not _real_ work he says. It's not a _real job_ , says the angel who rides a bike to work every day.

Whether he wants to admit it or not, I'm a professional in my field. You could say that I'm an asset to the company. I'm so good that even the grinning head honcho himself comes down from his throne just to give me a pat on the back every once in a while. " _Keep up the good work, Kuro._ " It may not seem like much, but it feels good to hear that _someone_ appreciates me. I never got so much as a "hello" all through high school. Even the damn teachers were scared of me. To most people, I was just "Dark," that misfit angel boy who hates to talk. Out here though, out here on the streets, I feel alive. Kuro is what they call me, and honestly I always thought it sounded much cooler than "Dark." Dark is just… stupid.

"It is rather redundant," my boss would say. "It is like referring to the sea as water, or to the wind as air. A daredevil like you deserves something much more befitting, something that fades with the night, and possibly has a nice ring to it."

And thus Kuro was born, and oh how I love it so! It represents the bond that I share with my awesome friends, my family. It's a reminder that no matter what I do, I will always be connected to someone out there who likes me for who I am. Not like Pit-stain who thinks that my constantly going out at night is "bad for my health." He worries way too much sometimes, but not once have I ever told him about my second name. He'd think it was some kind of gang sign, like the triangle tattoos all the Gerudos wear. I never told him about that either, and hopefully he'll never see it so long as I keep a shirt on my back.

One day, Pit approached me with a job offer, but it wasn't just some mailroom junky spot at Paratroopa Post this time. He had in his hand an envelope with a star stamp smudged in the corner of it. Apparently there was a new comic book store opening in town, and it was also in reasonable walking distance from our place, which more or less meant that if I got the job, there wouldn't be any excuse for me to play hooky.

"The pay is minimum wage, but that's better than nothing right?" he asks me, almost in desperation. He was smiling on the outside, but deep down I could tell that his hope was dangling by a thread. He was practically shaking as he handed me the note. "Dark?"

I didn't say a word as I skimmed the details. Not only was I being paid dirt, I was also expected to work different shifts throughout the week, some days early in the morning while other days late at night. I also had to show up on time, make sure I was meeting the dress code, and most importantly at least know a thing or two about comic books.

Comic books. What a waste of time.

"Forget it." I tossed the letter on the floor before making my way to the door. "I'm not that desperate for a job." Little did he know that I already _had_ a job.

He stops me as I leave, blocking the exit with his body. His smile has somewhat melted, his lips quivering as he grasps me by the arms.

"Please Dark, don't do this to me again," he pleads. "I'm just trying to help."

"I don't need your help," I reply flatly. "I'm doing fine on my own."

"Doing what? Staying out late at night to cause trouble downtown? Every time I come home you're either gone or you're sleeping in till three in the afternoon! You can't keep doing this to me…"

I notice his shoulders droop, followed by his head, and then the next thing I know that whiny baby has his arms wrapped around my wings. I resist only for a moment, feeling warm tears trickle down my skin.

"I love you, Dark," he says. "Don't go down there anymore. I want you to be safe. I want you to be happy."

I stood there with his hair in my face, wishing that he could just understand. I'm not a good guy. I'm not just someone who can go through fifteen years of mindless education, be brought up in some mechanical corporation, and then finally set off on my own where I can just exist for the rest of my life. Going out at night, going downtown, that's where I felt free. It's where I could express myself, where I could work hard and see the fruits of my accomplishments bloom in an instant.

It's where I fit in.

He was crying now, his sobs reminding me of something that I had seen in those cheesy drama shows we used to watch when we were kids. He wasn't trying to be a mother to me this time though. This time, he was really upset, and I couldn't determine what I was feeling at the moment, nor could I find the word to describe the tugging pain in my heart. I guess you could call it… sympathy?

"I pray," he says. "Every night I pray to our goddess for you. Do you care?" He looks up at me, his fingers clawing my shirt as his big eyes welled with frustration. "Do you?"

I look at him and I don't know what to say. Of course I care; he's my brother after all. If anything were to happen to him… I'd probably be really pissed off. In this world, he was the only family I had, or the only one related by blood anyway. Even though it usually amused me whenever mister goody-two-shoes grovelled like this, this time I wasn't feeling anything. I was just absent, as if I had left the answering machine to do all the talking for me.

"Please. Say something."

It was here where I was left with one of two choices, and there was a good chance that making the wrong choice would end up with one of us moving out permanently. On the other hand, doing what he says would not only make him happy, but also shut him up. The question is, would I be able to live with the thought that this one proposal could possibly change my life forever?

Lucky for him I was always the risk-taker in the family.

"You're hopeless," I finally say with a sigh. "Alright Pit, you win. I'll apply for the stupid job if it makes you happy." He continues to stare at me; honestly I think he was expecting that response just as much as I was. "But so help me if it turns out to be pointless then that's the last time I ever do anything for you. Got it?"

He let go of me, but he didn't look very pleased at all. His face was still stained with glossy tears though, much like the crybaby I remember growing up with.

"You're not doing it for me," he says. "You're doing it for yourself."

As I've done before and will continue to do till the day I die. I didn't expect to be hanging around that comic book store for more than a week, what with the nerds and whatever else earthly scum frequented those types of places. My plan was to try it, get sick of it, and just tell him straight that no regular job will ever be good enough for me. Besides, I'd be throwing away all the great friends I've already made, not to mention my reputation as one of the most dangerous punks to mess with in town. And if those guys ever saw me working at a comic book store? Heck, I'd never be able to live it down.

When I told the boss man about this, he seemed pleasantly surprised. His normally wide grin seemed to grow with every detail I mentioned about this new job. And as I stood there in the rain, atop New Smashopolis' Goldenrod Bridge, the Grinning Man continued to stare as if he were waiting for my masterful final punchline. Through the mist surrounding his umbrella, he appeared as ominous as a spirit, his silhouette just a mound of trench coat.

"You are serious then," he says. "You are leaving us."

"Not for long," I reply. "I'm just doing it to keep my brother off my back. Just gimme about a week or two."

He's not amused, but then again he hardly ever was. If he wasn't grinning, he was usually scowling, but that's a face that no one wants to see. Believe me.

"This could be rather interesting then." The Grinning Man ponders for a few seconds. "With you taking a leave of absence, perhaps the others may grow to miss your company. I will not speak for myself, Kuro, but I know for a fact that there are several folks around who wish to spend more time with you."

"And they'll get their chance." I know whom he refers to, and honestly they're not the worst bunch of misfits in the world. "I just need some time off is all. I just hope things don't get too… boring while I'm away."

"There is never a dull day in this business." He laughs, and I'm starting to feel my wings freeze up from the water droplets. I really should have thought about bringing a jacket. "It has been a pleasure working with you, and I do believe you deserve some much-needed vacation time. So go. Go and do what you wish to your heart's content. Just make sure not to forget about us by the time you finish."

He says that as a hard reminder, almost as if he's expecting me to forget. How could I though? They're the best thing that's ever happened to me since we started living in this hellhole of a city. To go back on my word would be backstabbing a family that practically raised me in these slums.

"I promise," I say. "Thanks a lot."

"Fly now, Kuro," he says with a raised hand. "Fly to your temporary perch, and be sure to enjoy the view while it lasts. After all, that is what life is all about."

I hastily take my leave to finally get out of this stupid rain. I didn't see the Grinning Man for another four months after that.

And so, as the old saying warns, I didn't go chasing after my past. I left it right where I found it, and I planned on returning to it again once I was done taking out the trash. Although I didn't get a chance to say my good-byes, I knew that everybody would be waiting for my arrival, yearning for the day when Kuro would take to the streets once more and cause trouble like he did in the golden age of crime. It was the end of an era, all in the wake of something new to sprout.

Little did I realize at the time that no matter how far the past may linger, it never truly disappears. No one ever said anything about the past coming to chase _me_.


	2. Another Day In Paradise

Popstar Comics

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Chapter 1: Another Day in Paradise

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I was met with a piece of plywood to the face this morning when I got up, along with an annoying remix of some pop band I couldn't care less about. Normally I'm pretty good at not slamming my head on the bottom of the upper bunk, but it looked like today was just going to be another one of those days. Silently cursing, I threw off my covers and tossed my buzzing alarm clock, shambling my way to the bathroom in irritation.

These damn work hours. Who the hell opens a comic book shop at seven in the morning?

"Breakfast is ready!" calls Pit from the kitchen. It smells good, but I pretend not to care. Not only is mister goody-two-shoes accomplished in archery, speed delivery, and singing, but he can also cook. The ladies love him. "Pittoo! Are you awake yet?"

"What did I say about calling me that?" I holler from the bathroom with my head dunked in cold water. Seriously, I despise that nickname. It may have been cute when we were little, but I'm nineteen years old now. I have my own body, my own brain, and my own set of personal traits that make me who I am. I'm not just some carbon copy of my brother despite the fact that our parents refused to acknowledge that. To them, I was just a twin, the pup who always followed another's lead, the one who was cast aside while his brother danced in the spotlight.

In other words, I was a nearly identical but not so talented Pit. A Pit-two.

"Daaarrrk. If you don't hurry, you're gonna be late," he calls to me. A few seconds later I wander in to the kitchen with a bedhead and dark blotches under my eyes. Yeesh, it's bright in here.

"I got time," I reply, grabbing a spoon and pouring myself a bowl of Super Mari O's. I didn't want to eat the wholesome meal he prepared for me, but that didn't stop him from placing a plate down beside my bowl complete with an egg, a sausage, and a slice of toast. I growled in his direction, but I couldn't maintain it as he smirked at me with that cutesy apron he was wearing.

"You'll thank me later," he says. "After all, the key to an active day is to start off with a healthy breakfast! That's what Lady Palutena told me."

I find myself rolling my eyes as he makes another nod to his damn goddess. Pit was a parishioner of a not-so-popular religion belonging to Palutena the Goddess of Light. She was as beautiful as goddesses come with her elegant gown and shimmering emerald hair. That's how she was depicted in the picture atop Pit's shrine anyway—the one near the exit to our apartment. He claims to have spoken to her before, but to me that's just a bunch of baloney. If she were any kind of real goddess, she would have given us the power to use our wings like they were meant to be used.

To this day, I still don't know why we were born flightless angels.

"Whatever." The next thing I know I'm chomping down on some undercooked eggs, but that doesn't stop me from reluctantly thanking Pit for the food.

"Better get a move on since it's almost eight. Come to think of it, I better get ready too!" He throws off the apron and practically swallows his meal before I get a chance to poor a glass of milk. The next thing I know the dishes are in the dishwasher and he's off to pretty himself up for another day of Paratroopa Post's delivery services.

Wait, did he just say eight?

I check the clock and nearly spit out my drink when I realize that I overslept. In the midst of the calamity, I somehow managed to scarf down my food and beat Pit to the bathroom just as he was about to enter.

"Hey!" I slammed the door shut on his face. "What gives?" Three seconds later, I was cleaned, groomed (for the most part), and shut away in my room to get dressed.

"You moron!" I shout while stumbling into my jeans. "Why didn't you tell me I overslept!?"

"I thought you set an alarm clock?"

"I did!" I glance at the clock on the floor, noticing that both hands had frozen stiff. "Damn thing's broken."

I looked up and he was already standing at my door decked out in his uniform with a mailbag slung on his shoulder. He seemed to be rather amused by my struggles.

"Well that's your fault then," was all he said before strutting to the exit. "Come on; I'll lock up."

I feel the urge to knock him on the head, but my will manages to overcome my temper. I couldn't afford another late day as I was already on my third strike with the manager. Without thinking, I slip into whatever shirt I could find, grab my lanyard, and bust my butt past my brother without saying anything. I hear him shut the door behind me but by the time he calls good-bye after me, I'm already down the steps and on the street.

Welcome to New Smashopolis, home of the filthy, the rich, and the filthy and not-so-rich. Pit and I have lived here for most of our young adult lives, although it wasn't until just this past year when we started living on our own. Before that, we were looked after by foster parents all through secondary school, and then after graduating I've never looked back since. It's been an uphill struggle, but I like the freedom compared to how things used to be.

In the city there were two main districts: The east end and the west end, both interconnected by a backbone known as the Goldenrod Bridge. Pit and I are from the west end, and it's also where you got most of your businesses and shops. It's divided into four main areas that form the housing, the public areas, and two more for everything else. The east end is probably the worse side of the two because over there you got most of your slums, but they also have some nice restaurants, parks, and strip clubs. The city as a whole is known for its art and technology being one of the prime producers of electronic entertainment, although those jobs are left to the bigger corporations. During the day the streets tend to be mostly vacant. The night however, is when the city truly comes alive, and you can typically expect to bump into someone you know if you just so happen to be taking a stroll down Dreamland Street after hours.

I end up crossing over that street on my way to work, pedalling my shoes as fast I as I can before making it to Fourside Avenue. Traffic is a pain in the ass, but thankfully I never have to stop at the crosswalks. Eventually I arrive at this hole-in-the-wall location squished between a room for rent and some Asian cuisine place. I'm sweating a little, checking one of the town clocks to see how late I am.

Forty-nine minutes. Great...

This was probably going to be it for me. The boss had already threatened to fire me once after the incident last week. According to him, he had two more potential hires waiting to be called if I couldn't fit the bill. Not that I cared one way or the other since I was supposed to be up and out of this job a few days ago. Maybe this will make Pit think twice about sticking his nose where it doesn't belong again.

Silently, I push my way in through the door, the bell above chiming my entrance. I'm immediately met by the sight of my co-worker, who could have looked a bit more enthusiastic to see me.

"Late again, Kuro," he says. "That's your third strike."

Swell. I suppose "good morning" isn't as popular as it used to be.

"My alarm didn't wake me up at the right time," I scoff, making my way down the long aisles of cardboard boxes. My co-worker nudges a sign-in sheet in my direction, where I'm presented with two more tardy memories of my track record. The next thing I know I'm writing down my name and thinking of some shoddy excuse as to why I'm late again. A gloved hand stops me from filling out the details.

"Don't sweat it, kid; I got you covered," he says to me. I stare at the sharp eyes beneath the lens of his helmet, unable to tell if he's being serious or pulling my leg.

For his sake, he better not be.

"What?"

"I won't tell ol' Dedede," he says quietly. "Just say you came in on time and I'll vouch for you. He hasn't left his office all morning."

I spare a glance past the figurine shelves to the door labelled "Employees Only." Beyond that contained Popstar Comics' only bathroom, as well as a storage closet, inventory, and most importantly my boss' room. For a moment, I thought I saw the door sway by some unknown force, or perhaps that was just my imagination.

"What's the catch, Falcon?" I ask to my co-worker. His name wasn't exactly Falcon, but it was the only one that I settled with after the list he gave me. There were a few reasons why I didn't fully trust this guy, and one of them had to do with our very first encounter.

"Catch?" he replies. "There is no catch. I'm just tryin' to do you a favor." He takes back the sheet and slides it under the counter. "Just pretend that nothing ever happened. You arrived here the same time I did."

He gives me a nod and a small smirk, but ultimately I'm apathetic. Me not being fired right here and now is more or less prolonging the inevitable.

"Fine," I mutter. "So what are we doing today?"

"Same thing as yesterday and the day before." Falcon shrugs. "Get some boxes and bring 'em out here. I'll sort 'em out as they come."

His orders puncture me like small needles, but I suck it up and follow through with my assigned duty. This is what sucks about being the new guy. More or less, I become the grunt who has to handle the monotonous tasks. Pick up a comic box, move over there, pick up another one, blah blah blah. No wonder I'm being paid peanuts.

I suppose now's a good a time as any to talk about Popstar Comics and its bizarre employees. They opened about a month ago, a family owned business under the name "Dedede." From what I've gathered during my little time working here, the store specializes in selling official Nintendo branded products. For those who don't know, Nintendo is one of, if not the biggest comic book publishing company in the world. They have fans all across the globe, all poor suckers who would easily shell out hundreds of dollars for merchandise that just so happens to have that big N stamped on it. And I'm not just talking about comic books. I'm talking action figures, board games, clothing, blankets, junk food, you name it. Oh, and bobble heads. Ohh those stupid bobble heads.

Long story short, Popstar Comics is a Nintendo fanboy's wet dream, and I'd be lying if I told you I hadn't seen these weirdos for myself the odd times I was working the register.

They come in packs, usually twos or threes, all huddled around over the next cringe-inducing issue of Super Mario Brothers or The Legend of Zelda. Occasionally you'll get the twenty-nine year old virgin neckbeard wandering into the store, slobbering over mint-condition issues of Nintendo classics like Balloon Fighter and Excitebike. Others, or what I'd like to call "normal people," just poke their heads in only to be driven away by the putrid smell of body odor and mold. Interestingly, the store has only been open to the public for about a month and already we were up to our necks in meeting order and pre-order deadlines.

As I carry boxes out of the backroom like someone's pet monkey, I can't help but catch Dedede's closed door from the corner of my eye. There is a small sticker on it that reads "Manager," but it's a wonder how anyone like him could have earned that position. Every time I see him he's either in there watching Japanese cartoons or some other kind of nerdy crap. When he's not fiddling with his collection of teenage girl figurines, he's out in the front barking at me that I'm doing something wrong.

" _Easy on the merchandise! Don't spread the dust all over! And for cryin' out loud will you stop dragging your feet everywhere!?_ "

Oh yeah, I'll stop dragging my feet everywhere, right after I drag your body outside so I can—

"Hey, how's it goin'?"

Falcon's voice passes over my head to greet a customer walking in. Like the dog I am, I keep my mouth shut and continue placing boxes. The customer gives me no notice, and soon enough he's at the counter chatting it up with Falcon about when we're going to have the next issue of Pokémon on our shelves. I blissfully ignore them.

Douglas Falcon is probably the strangest character in this building by far. The first time I met him was during the interview when he asked me to show him my moves. I honestly had no idea how to answer him, but that didn't stop both him and Dedede from laughing in my face at how confused I looked. The real interview commenced shortly thereafter, but I swear most of the questions they asked were just to make sure I wasn't retarded. And of course, what interview is complete without the classic "What's your biggest weakness?" question?

I told them I have a short temper. They laughed again.

A few weeks after that, I got a call from Dedede saying that I got the job and that I was to start the first Monday after the weekend. It's been nine days since then, but I can't say I've found enjoyment in this new environment. The assignments are so menial, not to mention all anyone ever does around here is tell me what to do. And Captain Falcon is the worst one of them all.

He has a real attitude that guy; I'm not just saying it out of spite either. He outright refused to tell me his real name several times over the course of the first few days. I had to go to another co-worker to get his full name, which I can confirm at this point is Douglas Jay Falcon. He refuses to respond to anyone who calls him by his first name though, saying that if you're going to talk to him, call him either "Captain Falcon," or just "Falcon" for short.

"I do it for the fans!" he told me one time. "All the kids love Captain Falcon!"

He's what some might call a crossdresser. No wait… Sorry, I mean a cosplayer. He cosplays Captain Falcon, who is apparently the hero in the F-Zero series of Nintendo comic books. The story has something to do with street racing in outer space with aliens, while Captain Falcon works as a bounty hunter who fights dangerous criminals and brings them to justice. And so every day, Falcon struts in to Popstar Comics wearing a tight blue racing suit and a flaming crash helmet that covers half his face, just like Captain Falcon does in the series. He admits, however, that even though F-Zero is not as popular as it once was, true fans still visit the shop in hopes of taking pictures with their all-time favorite superhero.

That's funny because I have yet to see someone enter this store recognizing him as Captain Falcon instead of some flamboyant bodybuilder.

"He'd be able to help you out," says Falcon all of a sudden. I notice him point a gloved finger at me, directing the customer. I stand up, furrowing my eyebrows at the next ridiculous task he was going to assign me. "Kuro, can you help this man find Pokémon Ruby issue number 63?"

The customer approaches me and almost mechanically I drop what I'm doing and start filing through one of the boxes on one of the tables. Falcon had shown me how to do this before, and the procedure was braindead simple, but I wasn't about to screw up again. I fished for the comic, pressing my fingers over each issue until number 63 came up charmingly wrapped in plastic. I handed it to the customer who appeared somewhat paranoid by the way I handled it. Figures he was just another wannabe collector. Falcon gave me a nod and the man was back at the counter checking out for the day. I resumed my tasks without saying a word, not even to the customer who gave me thanks.

Do I have a problem? No. I just wish I wasn't working this stupid job anymore. Give it another late day and maybe these morons will finally get the idea that I'm sick of this place. The only reason why I was doing this was to appease Pit-stain, and I did promise him that I'd give it a week at least. Well, it'll be two weeks this Friday, and personally I think I've overstayed my welcome. The guys over on the east end have probably been dying to see me again.

Before this whole comic book thing started, I was just a street punk who spent a little too much time in the city after dark. I like it though, having the freedom to do what I want. Out there I had people who always wanted to hang out with me. I felt a sense of belonging, a sense of friendship, and I sure as hell felt much more respected than I do at home. Sure it wasn't the safest place to be every night, but I made a name for myself in less than a year becoming the dark angel that everyone recognizes as Kuro. It even says it on my nametag.

"Kuro?" Dedede asked me at the interview. "That's a weird name. What is that, Japanese?"

Honestly I have no idea where it originates from, but it sounds a hell of a lot cooler than "Dedede." My name stuck with me ever since I started living on the streets and I've kind of grown accustomed to it. I didn't tell Falcon or Dedede about my real name seeing as how there was no point. I'm dead-set on leaving this place first chance I get. Soon enough, Kuro will be able to reclaim the name that he once made for himself.

I finish moving the boxes and Falcon comes over to cut some of them open. As expected, the boxes are filled to the brim with comics, mostly old issues of series that haven't been shelved yet. Even though they had been here for a few weeks, Popstar Comics was still in the middle of unloading merchandise. You'd think they would have done this long before their grand opening.

"Mornin' fellas."

Dedede finally emerges from the shadows of his office looking like he just woke up. He howls a yawn, hobbling over to the counter to inspect the sign-in sheet. I watch him for a few seconds as he glazes over the names before his eyes catch mine.

"Went to bed earlier last night, Kuro?" he asks.

"Umm…" Falcon gives me a glance as I respond. "Yeah."

"That's what I like to hear. Once you start getting into the routines, it'll be like second nature to you."

As if. Wednesdays start at seven in the morning, then nine on Thursdays followed by noon on Fridays. My schedule is anything but routine.

"Uh huh." I don't say much and he knows it. I came off as one of those introverted types when we first met, yet he still has the nerve to hire me anyway. I shake my head and get back to work, handing Falcon books as he starts laying them out and putting them in their proper locations.

It's at this point when I decide for good that I'm just not going to show up tomorrow. Walking out right now was an option, but I didn't want to have to own up to it to these bozos. I figured that one more day wasn't going to kill me (a full week's pay is also nice), so I held my tongue and behaved like a good dog for most of the day. I answer questions, I direct customers to where they need to go, and I sweep the floors until they shine. I am Kuro, angel of darkness and follower of none.

Before the end of the day when we're cleaning up, Dedede approaches me with a pat on the back. With Falcon taking a bathroom break, it seemed that he wanted to meet with me in private, or as private as you could get with the store windows just on the other side of the room.

"You've done some good work, kid," says Dedede. "Even though you've only been here a couple weeks, you've really helped to pick up the slack around here."

I give him a queer look, broom in hand.

"I'm always late though," I reply. "I'm not a good worker."

I try my best to drop a hint, but it looks like his ignorance outsmarts him.

"I can let it slide since you don't complain much. I know these work hours aren't flexible for everyone. Especially for those…" He pauses. "Wait, you're still in school right?"

"No," I say. As a matter of fact I hate school.

"Oh, well in that case, I'm glad you decided to choose us as your first job!"

Not like I had a choice…

"Thanks… I guess," is all I muster. I really wasn't sure what I was supposed to say. Maybe now might be a bad time to tell him I plan on jumping ship?

"Because you've been such a big help around here…" He winks at me. "I've been getting a big surprise ready for you and the other guys."

This of course piques my interest, the thought of getting something more than dirt pay and a sweaty back from this job. But what was he talking about? A raise? Better hours?

"Am I getting a raise?" I blurt. Whether I was spoiling the surprise or not I really didn't care. He grins at me but I'm unable to decipher the context.

"You could look at it that way," he says. "I already mentioned this to the other two, so I figured it would be best to save it for tomorrow when you're all here." He pats me on the back, which comes off as a firm pound. "So make sure you're here bright and early tomorrow for the great unveiling of the big surprise!"

He waddles off with a laugh, which all of a sudden makes me skeptical about the whole thing. It turns out, however, that Dedede was not in fact joking and that he did indeed have something big planned for tomorrow. Was he really going to give me a raise?

In any case, it was at this moment when I decided to postpone my retirement by one day, at least to see what all the fuss is about. If Dedede comes up to me and says he's going to start paying me three times my salary and knocking an hour off my work days, then maybe I'll stick around for a little longer. Money is money after all. Still, I couldn't let Pit live with the satisfaction that I was actually happy with this job, so for now, I decided to keep Dedede's announcement a secret. To him, this will be just another dreary day of shop organizing and box moving. Another day in paradise.

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 **Author's Note:** A thousand thanks to Paradigm of Writing, ChaosxPaladin, Wotahbotah3k, LegitElizabethWWEFan, SolarEnergy07, PozzyP, prowessMaster44, and bladewielder05 for leaving reviews last chapter. Also thanks to any silent readers who are following this story. I'll see you in the next update.


	3. City of Color

Popstar Comics

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 **Author's Note:** I apologize for not replying to anyone last chapter. I'll be sure to do that for this update. Thank you to Ellie, Paradigm, prowessMaster, Wotahbo3k, Flowslikepixels, and SolarEnergy for leaving reviews, as well as those of you who have favorited and followed thus far.

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Chapter 2: City of Color

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There's nothing particularly interesting about New Smashopolis during the day. People are either at work or at school, and nobody ever has time to stop to chat unless it's on a business appointment. Cars drive by, construction tools hammer, and everyone is caught in the net of automation. Productivity can't outshine the mundane, and that's precisely how it looks every day of the week; just a bunch of worker bees buzzing around to make honey for the queen that is modern society.

It just isn't for me, which is the reason why I've become more nocturnal over the years. At night, after the businesses are closed and the hardhats are hung, the lights turn on and the city reawakens with a new purpose. No longer is New Smashopolis a workaholic's dream town, but a young beast that no mortal man can tame. Those who thrive during the afterhours come out of hiding, opening up booths and other various stands to entice onlookers to check out their goods. Throw all that in a blender with music, clubs, and street gangs, and my friend you have yourself a recipe for destruction.

If you head south down Dreamland Street, you will eventually reach Station Square, which is the prime capital of nighttime activity. Here is where I normally found myself wandering off to after work closed, but believe me when I say I am no stranger. Truth be told, I used to hang out here all the time before I was working at Popstar. The vendors know me, the kids know me, hell even the dude that runs the PacDonalds place knows me. I've made a name for myself here and I wouldn't give it up for anything in the world.

"Yo Kuro! On the house!"

I receive a flying banana smoothie from a nearby vendor, the DK Bros. to be precise. They see me every now and then, and sometimes I do them favors by fending off street bums from their supplies. I don't know them personally—they're probably not even real brothers—but a free smoothie is better than no smoothie. It's moments like these that remind me that life can be kind of cool sometimes.

Strolling around Station Square, I pop in to a few booths to see what's hot. There's a vendor selling necklaces, another promoting a new brand of fish sticks (that's fish on a stick you can eat with one hand), knickknacks, ramen noodles, polished stones that were probably plucked from a ditch. We're all trying our best to make a dollar so I don't mind paying my respects to those less fortunate than me.

Eventually I stop at a newspaper stand to check out today's headlines since apparently I didn't have time at all for that this morning.

" _Mass Break-Ins Sweeping Smashopolis_ "

Nothing unusual. In a city with so many businesses, it's no wonder why the crime rates haven't changed in the past ten years. In fact, I'd say it's gone up, and I'm probably not doing anything to help the cause, but that's not my problem. It may not look like it, but I _am_ one of those burglars, or thieves, or whatever the hell they're calling them nowadays. This is how I make my living. Well, it _was_ how I made my living before the comic book thing, but I already said that I wasn't going to go through with that again. Besides, am I really a thief if I've never been caught before?

Little did I realize that I was soon about to eat my words.

The slightest tug nudges my back pocket, and in one second I've grabbed someone by the wrist and thrown him to the ground. I hear a squeal of pain, which is the only thing keeping me from squeezing harder than I should have.

"Gah! I'm sorry Kuro! I-I didn't know it was you!"

I recognize the boy as one of the Villager kids, a group of homeless children who survive through pickpocketing and soliciting. His matted brown hair is revealed after the cowl falls to the ground, and his eyes are so big they're practically spinning. With a sigh, I get off of him and help him to his feet, letting the few onlookers who witnessed the event know that this was just a misunderstanding.

"Watch what you're doing," I say seriously, "or the next time that happens you'll lose an arm."

He dusts himself off before fixing the cowl back over his head. His face is brown, sweaty, and he reeks of something that died days ago.

"I could've sworn you were just another regular," replied the Villager boy. "I haven't seen you around here for a while."

I notice my fallen smoothie from the corner of my eye.

"I've been… busy," I mumble, scooping up the plastic cup and tossing it in a nearby trash bin.

"Busy with what? I used to see you almost every day in Station Square."

"Working," I state hesitantly. "Just at a store that sells books and other cheaply-made crap. Not nearly as fun as I'm making it sound, trust me."

He chuckles at my sarcastic comment. The Villagers always liked a good sarcastic comment.

"How about you? Staying out of dumpsters?"

"I wish," he says, "but not for the reasons you might think." He pauses to glance around, verifying that everyone in the immediate vicinity is either too preoccupied or too high to notice him. "We're trying to keep our heads down until the mass break-in thing blows over."

That's not really surprising. With break-ins happening all over the city, the police are likely to turn their heads at the groups that cause the most trouble downtown. The Villagers are a prime suspect as any in these cases, but I know for a fact that these kids solely stick to the streets and don't have the guts or the manpower to break in to a store by themselves.

"Any idea who it is?" I ask. Not that I care, but you'd be surprised at how far knowing information can get you in this neighbourhood.

He shakes his head. "Nope. There's a rumor that it could be a new gang in town, but I doubt it. The police are turning up every week though, so be on your guard." He tugs his cowl over his eyes and crouches. "It was nice talking to you again. Gotta run!"

He dashes off, disappearing behind a crowd and into an alleyway. Since he is a pickpocket, there is no reason for him to stay out here any longer than he has to. Thankfully there were no cops around, but I wouldn't be surprised if he caught eye of someone that I missed.

"Heyyy, Kuro."

The voice comes from behind and I soon find myself standing before yet another familiar face.

"Hey," I say, but I ignore the playful way in which she greeted me. "Isn't it past your bedtime?"

The girl—standing about as tall as the Villager kid—gives me a pout. She turns her head from side to side, the large pigtails in her hair dangling like a pair of black bells. Her hands behind her back give off an innocent demeanor, but I know just as well as anyone else who knows her that she's merely playing cute.

"Nooo," she coos. "I don't have a bedtime, silly. I just wanted to say hi."

This is Ashley, New Smashopolis' resident witch girl. On the outside, she appears to be no more than twelve, typically sporting a red dress or some similar gown when out on the streets. She uses her outward appearance as a means to take advantage of others, wherein actuality she has the mind of an adult. Supposedly, she drank a potion that made her look like a child, but that doesn't change the fact that she's still the same Ashley I've come to know all these years.

She and I have a bit of history with the Gerudos, although she claims to be on and off of the group on account of her "going to school." Simply put, she's a mischief maker. There were times when I caught her trying to slip pills into my drink, among other dubious things just so she could satisfy her feminine needs. I don't mind her, but she has a tendency to step over the friendship boundary when under the influence.

"So what's new?" I ask. "Disturbing the peace like always?"

"That's your job." She winks at me. "I was just doing a little grocery shopping before heading home. Wario doesn't feed himself despite how much he eats…"

That's her stepfather, but calling him _that_ is a stretch. He's more like the "guy who had to sign the adoption papers" kind of father. Interestingly, he also has some background with the Gerudo gang, but as far as I know Wario is barely ever home. Not to mention, Ashley technically does live by herself, but according to the documents, Wario is in fact her legal guardian. I suppose that's what she gets for fooling everyone about her age.

"How's he doing?" I ask, and feel my mouth smirking on its own. The mention of Wario's name brings back some fun memories indeed. "Still cleaning the cement off his shoes?"

She laughs, recalling the time when Wario had accidentally walked over a sidewalk of wet cement. Needless to say, he ended up barefooting it, abandoning his shoes for that poor construction crew to chisel out a day later.

"You know it," she says. "He's been wondering about you lately. Every time I see him he just goes on and on about…" She puts her hands to her face to mimic a chubby Italian man. " _When's Kuro coming back?_ "

I told him that I was only going to be gone a few days, but now I'm closing up my second week working at Popstar Comics. We used to be good pals—and we still are to a degree—but I suppose he's just one of those guys who can't live without a second opinion. I am the left to his right, the bad cop to his good cop, and if he didn't leave his cement shoes behind I'd probably be those too. Our relationship was something like an old drinking buddy that always picks up where the last conversation ended. It's bittersweet, but I'll be friends with anyone who likes me for who I am.

"I'll be back soon," I say. "I've been busy longer than I thought I was going to be."

"Aren't you working at some lame comic book store now?"

So she knows. Damn, word gets around.

"Pretty much," I reply. "Although I think I might be getting a raise tomorrow."

I notice an eyebrow skeptically rise up towards me.

"A raise already?" she says. "Fat chance. If raises came that fast, I'd be the CEO of Sony by now."

"Well maybe I'm doing a really good job." I don't know what it is, but for some reason the way she speaks irritates me. "I haven't heard one complaint from my manager." Not true, but why be honest with someone who wants you to play hard to get? "In fact, he's so proud that he wants me to come in extra early tomorrow just so he can tell me the good news."

I raise my chin in indignation, but her spits of laughter crumble me.

"I bet he is!" she says. "Now you can get the official nerd stamp of approval!" She pounds a tiny fist into her hand to demonstrate how it's going to go tomorrow. "He's probably some fat guy who smells like he hasn't bathed in weeks, right?"

I hesitate as I try to come up with a response, but she's absolutely right. I don't have anything to be proud of. I work at a freaking comic book store making chump change for money! And plus, why should I care about what some overweight penguin thinks of me? And who cares if I've done a good job or not since I'm leaving this place first chance I get tomorrow anyway! As much as I hate to admit it, Ashley has a point, and I'd be stupid to try and disprove her for it because it would only show that I care about this job more than I should.

But then again, I couldn't stand seeing her with that smug smirk on her face.

"Don't you think I've already thought of this?" I say, interrupting her giggles. "The job, the money, it's all a scheme just to show my stupid brother that I don't need his or anyone's help to get what I want."

The mention of Pit seems to pique her interest.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot you had a brotherrr." Her voice lingers on that last word, which usually meant that mind of hers was plotting something deviant. "He dropped off some mail for me the other day. I meant to give him a hug but he flew the coop before I could put something decent on."

The thought of Ashley doing anything minutely social with Pit disgusts me to my stomach. Knowing her, she was probably already thinking of some plan to get Pit into her house so she could hogtie him and keep him as a pet in her basement.

"I'll be sure to tell him to avoid your street at all costs," I say casually, but that only earns another pout from her.

"Fine, be that way," she replies. "Just make sure you come back soon. It's getting kind of lonely without you around…"

She stares at the ground and draws circles with her foot, but I can't tell if she's being serious or not. Although she comes off as a brat, deep down inside I know Ashely cares about me (a little too much sometimes). We have this sort of sibling relationship that I frankly wish I had with my own brother. It's kind of sad in a way.

"I've never seen you _this_ clingy," I say. "Maybe I should leave more often."

She points a finger at me. "Do it and you can say bye-bye to your wings."

Threatening me with black magic? It's not the first time coming from her and it's certainly not the last.

"Okay," I say. "I can't fly anyway so these wings are practically useless."

"I can still pluck the feathers one by one. Slowly…"

She makes a motion as if she's pulling feathers off a chicken, and I feel my spine shiver at the thought. That's a sure sign as any that this conversation is over.

"I'm out of here," I blurt. "Later, Ashley."

I head in the other direction as fast as my legs can take me, but her voice still follows me over the groups of people.

"One by one! One. By. One."

It's like taking a potato peeler to your own skin. Now _there's_ an analogy for you.

As her voice drowns in the city noises, I can't help but think about what she said about Popstar Comics. She's right when she said it was unrealistic of me to expect a raise tomorrow, especially since it's only been a few weeks. But if not that, then what? Dedede approached me and only me at the end of the day, and he made it sound like it was a reward for all the hard work I've been putting in. On the contrary, this is a comic book store we're talking about. What were the odds of him pulling out some tacky dress shirt from behind the counter as a form of initiation into their nerd cult? Or what if the big surprise is just a life-sized cardboard cut-out of Mario from the Super Mario Bros. series? The more I thought about it, the more I was beginning to suspect that this "big surprise" was nothing but a hoax to get me to come to work tomorrow. And if that's the case, then tomorrow will be the last time those losers ever see me again.


	4. The Big Surprise

Popstar Comics

* * *

Chapter 3: The Big Surprise

* * *

"Attention Popstar Employees! I have a special announcement to make!"

Dedede's voice was startling, so much so that I actually hit my head under the table as I stood up. The stack of comics that I was trying to put away ended up spilling all over the carpet, and with a heavy sigh I got back down on the floor again.

"It's about time," says Falcon, who was in the midst of replacing one of the lightbulbs in the ceiling. "We've been waiting for nearly an hour!" He stumbles, almost tripping off of the stepladder, but manages to regain his footing.

"I just wanted to make sure you bums showed up on time," replies Dedede with a smirk. "And it's a good thing I did, otherwise Kuro over there might have slept right through it!"

A scowl of annoyance escapes me, but the tabletop shields any traces of my face.

"So what's the news?" asks Falcon, dropping down onto the floor. He heads over to the switch to test the new lightbulb and nearly blinds himself in the process.

"Foxy ought to be showing up with her any second now," says Dedede, checking his watch. "I told him to be here by nine at the latest."

Fox (or "Foxy" as Dedede called him) is the last member of Popstar Comics' humble workforce. On the outside, he looks like one of those anthropomorphic foxes ripped from those geeky Japanese cartoon shows. I hardly ever see him since he mostly takes care of the inventory stuff in the back, plus he and I only have one or two common workdays. From what I've seen, he's not a complete weirdo like the other two (he does have his moments though), but other than that he's a mystery to me.

"What's he bringing?" I ask. I'm honestly super curious now. If this is supposed to be some kind of promotion, why is Fox acting as a delivery boy?

"Oh ho, you'll find out soon enough," chuckles Dedede slyly. "This is gonna be great for all of us!"

Okay, now I _really_ want to know what the big surprise is. If I'm not getting a raise then what the hell else am I supposed to be excited for?

"I'll bet it's that new trolley we ordered," mutters Falcon. "Or maybe it's one of those life-sized cardboard cut-outs of Mario!"

Oh god, please, anything but _that_.

"Look sharp, boys." Dedede raises a gloved hand. "Your prayers are about to be answered."

As if on cue, the bell above the front door chimes awake, and we're greeted by Fox McCloud and another accomplice. Again, I accidentally slam my head on the underside of the table.

"Sorry we're late," says Fox. "Construction on Brinstar is killer these days."

"All good," replies Falcon. "Ol' Dedede just decided to show up anyways."

"Hey, my dime, my time!" I hear Dedede say.

I climb up from the ground to see what all the fuss is about, and just as my luck would have it, I'm miraculously disappointed.

"Who's she?" I blurt.

The young woman who walked in with Fox jerks a glance at me. The first thing I notice about her is that she seems to be around the same age as me, which is hilariously a miracle since everyone else here has to be at least twenty-four. Her hair is blue like an ocean, but her eyes are of a cat, and if it were not for the Fire Emblem t-shirt, I'd probably think she represents someone of a higher authority.

"Kuro," says Dedede all of a sudden, "meet your new partner."

For a moment, I think he's pulling my chain, but the smiles on the other guys' faces tell me otherwise. She continues to stare at me as if she can tell I'm neither prepared nor willing to accept this offer if it is true.

"My what?" is all I can say.

"You heard me." Dedede waddles over and wraps a gargantuan arm around my shoulder. "As of today, Lucina here is going to be joining the crew. She's going to be helping in your department since we're so short of hands." He pats me on the back. "Surprise!"

I'm still dumbfounded and somewhat infuriated by the whole ordeal. All this time I was expecting some kind of compensation, wherein actuality all I got was another co-worker to take orders from.

Surprise indeed, Kuro. Surprise indeed.

"Hi there, Lucina!" says Falcon with a handshake. "I'm Captain Falcon. It's nice to meet you!"

His smile is contagious. "Nice to meet you too, Captain Falcon," Lucina replies. "Are you entering in the grand prix this year?"

Her question sparks a glow of excitement in the lens of Falcon's helmet.

"You bet I am!" He stands tall with a fist to his chest. "It would be a sin for me to disappoint all the adoring fans."

Everyone laughs and I can't help but wonder what the hell kind of drugs they're on. They can't be that dumb can they?

"Hold it, hold it," I say, shoving my way in between the two. "You do realize that he's not really Captain Falcon, don't you?"

Lucina shrugs. "He looks like Captain Falcon to me."

"Well duh," I respond, stupefied at how dense she is. "Just because he dresses like him doesn't mean he _is_ him." I grab a comic from a nearby rack. " _This_ is Captain Falcon. He's a made-up superhero from a comic book."

Her eyes fall on the cover of F-Zero issue number 1 for a brief moment, but her smile holds back another laugh. Dedede pulls me out of the way, yanking me by my own feathers.

"You'll get used to Kuro," he says. "He's just a party pooper."

"I understand," replies Lucina. "It's not every day you get to stand in the presence of a real superhero."

"I have a feeling we're going to be great friends," says Falcon with a smirk.

I cross my arms in irritation, my cheeks flare up, and then I suddenly feel the urge to walk out the door. I don't need to stand for any of this humiliation, especially from a group of comic book geeks who think dressing up as make-believe characters is cool.

Still, Dedede's mention of a partnership leaves me curious.

"I take it you already met Fox too?" says Dedede. "He's our inventory guy, and he also deals with managing our supply. As for me, you can call me 'King Dedede,' but I also accept 'Your Highness,' 'Your Majesty,' and 'Boss.'"

Oh yeah. One thing I forget to mention about Dedede is that he likes to be referred to as a king. Like Falcon, he likes to pretend he's a fictional character from a series of comic books, this time being from the Kirby franchise. I don't know if it's some kind of superiority complex or if he's just delusional, but he usually insists on acquaintances calling him by his "royal names." It didn't help that he was the manager, but I don't think I've ever heard anyone call him "King Dedede" yet.

And no, I wouldn't be caught dead saying it either.

"King Dedede then?" replies Lucina, the smile on her face hinting that she already knew the name's origin. "It's nice to meet you as well."

"And last but not least!"

Ohhh boy…

"I'd like to introduce you to Kuro!" He pulls me back into the group, and I'm pissed that I'm still flustered from the Captain Falcon thing. I refuse to make eye contact at all costs. "He was the newbie until you showed up, and as you can tell he's loads of fun at parties. I'm sure he wouldn't mind taking you under his wing. He's probably sick and tired of Falcon telling him what to do all the time anyways, heheh."

Wait, take her under my wing? Does that mean...

"Am I her supervisor?"

"You got it, feather-boy," says Dedede with a wink. "Since Lucina is new, you're gonna be the one to show her the ropes. It'll also be a good way for you to work on some of those leadership skills."

In the two weeks that I've been here, sure, okay.

"You're still partners though," interjected Falcon, "so make sure you treat each other as such. I don't want to hear you barking orders at her while you sit behind the counter counting the dots on the ceiling."

He's a hypocrite if I ever heard one, but I choose to ignore him.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Kuro," says Lucina. An outstretched hand comes toward me and I hesitate to grasp it.

"Thanks…" I reply, but I'm not sure what else to say. She gives me a puzzled look.

"You know, you look kind of familiar." She studies my face some more and I avert my eyes as much as possible. "Do you have a brother?"

Aw man, don't tell me she knows him too…

"Yes," I say flatly. "He's my twin."

I'm actually his but I'll be damned if I was going to say it like that.

"Does he work at Paratroopa Post?" she asks.

"Yeah…"

She definitely knows him.

"You never told us you had a brother, Kuro," says Dedede curiously.

"What does it matter?" I reply sharply. "I barely see him anyway since he's always working."

"He's delivered our mail a few times," Lucina explains. "You see, my father and I just moved to the city a few months ago, and at my old house we had a shared mailbox with other members of the community. Now the mail is delivered right to our doorstep, and I think your brother is the one who drops it off. He looks just like you."

More like _I_ look just like _him_. Even though we're twins, Pit is technically the older one, or at least that's what I was told all my life growing up. Every physical quality that he has I share with him. I'm not a copy of Pit, but merely an inferior version of him. He was the most popular student back in high school, always had a lot of friends, and always got good grades. He was good at sports, he knew how to cook, chicks practically lined up at our door hoping to be his first date to prom, and the list goes on. As for me, I almost flunked out of school. I never had friends growing up either, and I sure as hell wasn't good at sports. My qualities as an individual have only declined over the years, but if there was one thing I could tell you about myself, it would be that I am everything that Pit is not.

And since Pit is the embodiment of _perfection_ , I guess that makes me _Mr. Imperfect_.

"Where did you used to live, Lucina?" asks Fox.

"Ylisse," she replies. "It's a small town out east over in the county. I've lived there for most of my life, but we had to move after my father was offered a job here."

"Where does he work?"

"He's at Intelsys… I think that's the name of the company."

"Oh yeah, they host communication services for other businesses," comments Falcon. "I used to work there too for a while."

Not only did Falcon work at Intelsys (also known as Intelligent Systems), but he also supposedly spent some time with the New Smashopolis Police Department (abbreviated NSPD sometimes). I should know since… well, let's just say I used to see him around a lot. I'm not sure why he's not there anymore though. You'd think that someone like him would want to fight crime being the Captain Falcon wannabe that he is.

"What about you guys?" Lucina asks. "Any interesting backstories?"

"Well I don't mean to brag…" smirked Dedede. "But I used to write comic books back in my day."

"Same with me," replies Fox. "I guess that's kind of the reason why I'm here."

Seriously? Both of them used to be comic book artists? Talk about a small world.

"What about you, Kuro?" she asks me.

Well, the only story worth mentioning is the one about me and the Gerudos, but that's another can of worms I'd rather not get into right now.

"I'm a recent high school graduate," I say. "So this is my first job."

"Ah, same here," she replies. "I think it will be fun."

"You bet it'll be fun, sister!" says Dedede with a grin. "Fun is my middle name! Just call me 'King Fun-dede!'"

"I thought your name was King Dedede?"

"I can work with either. Haha!"

As nice as a break was, it was short-lived because we all had to eventually get back to work. This more or less meant that Dedede and Fox would disappear into the back rooms while Falcon, Lucina and I took care of things up front. A lot of my hours were spent walking around the store and explaining things to her while Falcon took care of the few customers that dropped by this morning. Of course, my types of explanations usually went somewhere along the lines of "This is this" and "That is that," but honestly what more is there to say? It's a comic book store, not a chemistry lab.

"Everything is organized by the series," I say, skimming over the boxes on the table. "And each series is in order based on the name." I point to the tags to show how the books fall in alphabetical order. "So if we get more shipments of F-Zero, we file that under 'F' and whatever."

Lucina listens contently and asks questions when necessary, and for some reason I can't help but feel satisfied about telling her what to do. It gives me a sense of freedom in this prison that I didn't normally have, a way for me to be more than just an extra pair of hands. I like it.

"Where do you put the manga?" she asks, as I fit a few straggler books back where they belong.

"The what?"

"The manga."

"I… have no idea what that is."

 _Mahn-gah_. Nope, doesn't ring a bell.

"Hmm. Perhaps this isn't _that_ kind of comic book store then…" she murmurs.

Although I was the one showing her around, she seemed like she knew more about comics than I did. That's not really a hard thing to accomplish, but I knew the gist of the popular comic series that gets sold around here. Dedede gave me a list of them that he made me memorize before my first day.

"Do you know about the Big Three?" I ask.

"Oh yes of course," she hastily states. "I'd say everyone knows about that."

That's interesting to hear because until I started working here, I had no idea that such a thing even existed in the world of nerd-dom.

The _Big Three_ in comic book lingo is another way of referring to the three best-selling Nintendo-branded franchises of all time. In order, they are _Super Mario Bros._ , _Pokémon_ , and _The Legend of Zelda_. Personally I don't see what the mass appeal is with these things, but I think a common factor that makes the books so popular is the characters.

Starting at the top, Super Mario Bros. is a story about two brothers named Mario and Luigi who try to stop an evil lizard named Bowser from stealing the Mushroom Kingdom's Princess Peach. The series spans several arcs and has been remade into so many adaptions and spinoffs that it's mind-boggling to name them all. Children and adults alike love the stories of the Mario Bros. though, and Mario himself is probably the most recognizable character in the world next to Mickey Mouse.

In Pokémon, the stories revolve around several kids that set off on adventures to learn about and capture mythical beasts known as Pocket Monsters, hence where the title of the franchise comes from. Like Mario, there are numerous stories and spinoffs, each one expanding on the universe adored by millions of fans worldwide. We even have a few stuffed animals of Pikachu (the series mascot) hanging around the comic store. I don't really see what the big deal is with this series since it looks like it's made for babies, but you'd be surprised how many adults I've seen walk into this store asking for Pokémon merchandise (like yesterday for instance).

Finally, The Legend of Zelda wraps up the trio with a series of stories based on a fantasy world. In it, readers follow the adventures of Link, a young man who sets off on a quest to rid the world of Hyrule from a greater evil. Zelda is the name of the princess who appears throughout the series, although her role varies based on the incarnations of the story. In _A Link to the Past_ , she acts as the seventh daughter to a group of sages who holds the key to entering a dark universe, while in _Spirit Tracks_ , she represents Link's travel companion. This is probably the most popular series among older fans, and I'll admit that the cover art on some of the books do look kind of cool.

"I have a few Zelda books at home," Lucina explains. "My favorite arcs are definitely _Ocarina of Time_ and _Majora's Mask_ though. They really capture the dark side that the series has always been known for. Did you know that the same artist drew the cover art for both stories?"

I'm surprised at how much she knows about comic books since as far as I know comics are a thing reserved for virgins and nerdy overweight men. I just can't fathom how much money people are willing to put out for these things, all just to complete their collections or for leisure reading. I guess she fits in with the rest of the people here, but if I didn't know any better, I'd say she was overqualified for this job.

"So over here we have the figurines and other toys," I say, gesturing to the glass casing that covered some of the wall. Numerous figures in all shapes and sizes were positioned and posed, all characters from beloved Nintendo franchises. "People can't get in here unless they ask permission first, so if you need the key you can just…" I realize she's not even listening to me as her face is up against the glass peering at all the figures.

"We sure have a lot of Pokémon here," she mutters.

We do? I wouldn't know one way or another since they all look the same to me.

"What's your favorite Pokémon, Kuro?"

"Uh…" I hardly know any Pokémon by name. "Pikachu I guess."

"Me too," she smiles. "But I do like Jigglypuff as well, and Greninja is cool too."

I glance at the figures, noticing that we have several Pikachus lined up. Surfing Pikachu, party Pikachu, singing Pikachu, hell there's even a Pikachu wearing a top hat in there. Apparently the world just can't get enough Pikachu.

"Yeah…" I murmur. "Anyways, if someone wants in, then just use the key so they can buy it. Also, make sure you don't touch the glass or else you'll have to wipe it down at the end of the day."

We move on to the posters, and then the board games, and then finally the other random junk like sodas, candy, and those godforsaken bobble-heads. By the time we come full circle, Lucina is pretty excited about the whole thing, but her next question leaves me wondering.

"So what happens in case of a break-in?" she asks.

I open my mouth to say something, but I'm actually pretty stumped. We had gone over safety regulations before like what to do in case of a fire or flood, but we never talked about being attacked or held at gunpoint.

"Depends how bad it is," comes Falcon's voice nearby. He's wiping smudges off the glass countertop, taking advantage of the grace period after the last customer left. "If someone walks in here and threatens you, there's a button under the counter that will call the local police department." He smirks. "But if he's unarmed and you think you have the skills to take him, then by all means go ahead."

I found his last statement to be surprising, but also kind of interesting. So if someone wants to brawl, is he giving us permission to take them on? Not that I'd want to, but between Pit and myself, I was always the one who put up the better fight.

"You're serious?" Lucina asks.

"Oh yeah," replies Falcon casually. "If someone walks in here asking for trouble then you have every right to give it to them. At the end of the day, you can just say it was self defense. Just don't go around bringing a knife to a gunfight if you know what I mean."

The way he explains it makes it sound like he's had problems with thugs before. It makes me wonder how I'd fair against someone looking to scrap in the store.

With yesterday's headlines, _anything_ could happen.

"I wouldn't worry about it though," says Falcon all of a sudden. "If anyone _did_ try to break into Popstar, it would probably be at night when nobodies here."

It's completely possible too since the front windows of the store didn't have metal bars on them. Someone could literally take a chair and smash their way inside. You'd think with the amount of money they have in here they'd resort to some better security.

"We're supposed to be getting bars on the windows next month!" hollers Dedede from the back. "Until then, keep your voices down about it!"

The irony in his voice earns a chuckle from Falcon.

The rest of the day wears on the same, making this a pretty successful first day working with my new partner. I'm still somewhat disheartened that I didn't get any _real_ reward, but perhaps this was a step in the right direction?

I know I said before that I wanted this day to be my last, but honestly today was pretty cool. For the first time, I got to be the guy in charge, and it's definitely a step up from what Pit-stain is doing. Wait till he hears that I'm someone else's supervisor…

"Have a good night guys," says Fox. He heads out with Lucina to a sunset painted street. I see her waving at me through the window, but I merely nod my head to acknowledge that I saw her.

"Why is she leaving with him?" I say out loud.

"She lives on the far end of town," responds Falcon, grabbing his bag and hoisting it over his shoulder. "Without a car it's a long walk, so Fox gives her rides since he also lives in that area."

Suddenly I'm thankful that my apartment is within walking distance of this toilet bowl.

"Have a good weekend, Kuro," says Falcon as he leaves. It's Thursday, but his workweek ends today, unlike mine which doesn't end until the actual weekend.

"See ya," I mutter, and I put the broom away back where it's supposed to go. I'm not the last one to leave though, since Dedede finally emerges from his room with the keys to lock up.

"So did ya have fun today?" he asks me.

Peculiar question but I decide to roll with it.

"I guess so," I reply. "Would have been nice if you told me about this earlier."

"What, you mean Lucina? Nah, that would have spoiled the surprise."

"I'm wondering though…"

"Huh?"

I'm about as new as she is after all, and my experience working this job is laughable compared to the others. Whether or not I've been doing a good job doesn't matter when I barely have seniority.

"Why did you choose me?" I say. "Why not Falcon or Fox?"

"You mean to be Lucina's supervisor?" He seems surprised, as if the answer is obvious. "I thought you could use a little boost in confidence. Believe it or not, Kuro, I've been watching you for a while now, and the way you interact with Falcon and me just doesn't cut it. You treat us like we're your parents, and as nice as that is, I don't want things to be so formal around here." He smiles. "We're not just your co-workers; we're your friends too. So I figured that if you had a buddy around your age helping you out, it might get you to come out of your shell some more."

It's true; I do treat them like they're my parents, but not in the way you would expect. I merely shut my mouth and do what I'm told because I don't want to talk to them, but I can see where he would get the idea. And friends? I'm sorry, but we have a long way to go before I can call anyone here a friend.

A little confidence boost is always nice though.

"You did that… for me?" I say.

"Yeah man, we care about you." He pats me on the back again. "It's a dark and scary world out there, especially in this town. We nerds gotta stick together! So if you ever run into any trouble with anything, don't be afraid to tell King Dedede." He walks with me out the door and closes up shop for the evening. "By the way, if you tell anyone I was being nice, I'll clobber you."

I nod my head, but I know he's joking with that last statement. At least, I think he is.

"I'll see you tomorrow then, Kuro?"

I find myself hesitating, remembering that today is supposed to be my last day. The idea was that I would not come in to work today in hopes that they would fire me, yet here I am standing with Popstar Comics' owner during quitting time. If I was planning to up and quit, now was the time to do it.

Or…

Since tomorrow is Friday I could just come in to work one last time. Might as well collect my last paycheck.

"Yeah." I make sure to look him in the eyes. "I'll see you tomorrow."


	5. Angel's Shadow

Popstar Comics

* * *

 **Author's Note:** People have been asking whether or not this story is supposed to be AU, and I will confirm at this point that yes it is, however, it takes a lot of inspiration from the canon Nintendo universes, as you saw with the comic books in the last chapter. I'm aiming at writing something that sits in between canon and AU, in other words a universe that borrows from both sides of the spectrum. The story is still in its beginning stages, so we're going to take this chapter to explore more of Kuro's relationship with his brother since that is something important that I would like the readers to understand before we continue. As such, this chapter is on the shorter side, but all the more significant in the grand scheme of things. Thank you to Light My Crazy Diamond, flowslikepixels, SolarEnergy, Varanus K, ChaosxPaladin, prowessMaster, Artic01, bladewielder, Dario Flaman, and Kinkajou321 for leaving reviews last chapter. Also, Kinkajou, I apologize for not replying to you before! You've been a great follower for a while now, so I just wanted to say thanks for everything and I really appreciate your comments and insight. Let's play some Pokemon again sometime eh?

Anyway, onto chapter 4.

* * *

Chapter 4: Angel's Shadow

* * *

My relationship with my brother has always been a complicated one. The thing is, both Pit and myself have completely different outlooks on life, but strangely enough neither one of us could be categorized as _wrong_. He believes in working hard and bringing out the best in others, while I prefer to get by and have nothing to worry about but myself. Moreover, Pit's weakness lies in the fact that he can't survive without having someone else in his life, whereas with me, I'm much more dependable on my own.

I've been called selfish, snobbish, and sometimes rude on occasion. I personally prefer to see myself as a mixed basket, but negative qualities can be positive ones when put in the right context. For example, a person who is selfish always gets the things that they want. And honestly, I don't ask for much. Give me food, give me shelter, give me freedom, and you'll have yourself a happy Kuro. The annoying part is when Pit purposely tries to take control of my life because the way I do things doesn't correspond with _his_ own beliefs. I _need_ to be a hard worker, I _need_ to be more respectful to others, blah, blah, blah. I can be both a hard worker and polite when I feel like it; the trick is catching me in the right place at the right time.

It is because of the contrasting ways in which we treat each other that I usually prefer to play the devil's advocate. Sometimes I find myself disagreeing entirely just for the sake of disagreeing, but that's not to say that I actually hate my brother. He's more like an annoying wart that I've grown used to living with. A wart that does the laundry and cleans the house almost every day, and I'd be conceded to say that I wasn't grateful to have him for that at least. He's much better than I am at staying on top of the chores anyway, leaving me to do the weekly tasks such as taking out the trash. He also cooks most of our meals, unlike me who typically grabs a T.V. dinner, or orders takeout from some backwater Chinese restaurant down the street. We never ate dinner together until recently however, when Popstar Comics became a prominent thing in my life.

He's just lucky that I felt like coming straight home today instead of mucking about after work. Normally he was used to me returning late, but after talking to Dedede today I found myself too distracted to bother wandering around Station Square. I just wish I could—

"So Dark, how was work today?"

Pit's question startles me like a hollow knock in a silent room. I realize that the clock on the wall is ticking, and for a moment I almost ask him to repeat what he just said.

"Fine," I reply, and I'm back to chewing on a microwaved beef strip. "Been busy."

I debate whether or not I should tell him about my new responsibilities, unsure if it would be relevant after the next few days. Probably not.

"Oh yeah?" He scoops in to his artificial mashed potatoes. "Are you still moving boxes around?"

I hear his question as an insult even though I know he doesn't mean it like that. He was just reiterating what I had been telling him since I started working there. The funny thing is, I wasn't far from the truth with those vague descriptions either.

"No," I say. "I've been setting up the displays, reorganizing some of the stock…" I hesitate, scrounging for any other evidence that doesn't make me look like a monkey that simply moves things. Wasn't there anything else besides the new hire?

His eyes drop slightly. "Is that Dedede guy still giving you a hard time?"

I remember telling him about Dedede and how much of a hard-ass he can be sometimes. In fact, all he ever heard from me was complaints about the place, but still he persisted in asking about my day as if he knew I was putting up a wall to keep him out. None of my co-workers were all _that_ bad, but it's true that Pit only ever heard one side of the stories that went down. As far as he knows, Dedede is a fat slob who watches porn in his office all day, Fox is a reclusive high school dropout, and Falcon is a drug addict. I call them the _Popstar Bunch_ , and they're on WB every night from eight to nine. Ten o'clock on Sundays.

"He's better," I say. "He hasn't been watching me as closely as he used to. I actually have room to breathe now."

"That's good." He pauses. "Are you still having thoughts about quitting?"

I know my brother, and at the end of the day, all he wants to hear is whether or not I'm sticking with the job. He's been thinking about it since the day he first brought it up to me, an annoying thought that lingered in the back of my mind. I don't care one way or the other if he's disappointed, but I absolutely refuse to be happy on account of a decision that he made for me.

I can be unhappy and have a job at the same time. There are a lot of people in the world like that.

"A little," I mutter. "But it's easy money, and if I keep a good relationship with them, I could probably land a raise or two real soon."

My response makes him smile, and for that I'm somewhat relieved.

"Well, I'd say you need to spend a little more time there before anyone starts thinking about raises," he jokes. "But I'm glad you like the job. It was a stroke of luck that I managed to see their ad in the paper. Lady Palutena sure works in mysterious ways."

Another thing that makes us total opposites is the fact that Pit is a kiss-ass to some dead angel woman whose picture constantly haunts me every time I enter the apartment. According to him, Palutena is my goddess just so much as it is his, but I don't buy into any of that religious garbage. The mere mention of her name rolls my eyes. He ought to be grateful that's the only response he ever gets from me on this subject.

"If I do end up sticking with this job, you'll know the reason why," I say. "Slim chance of that happening though."

"Well, before you decide to quit, could you do me a favor?"

I reply silently, but curiously all the same. He wasn't normally one to ask for favors. Usually it was just him whining about why I'm the way I am. I swear he's hit his head against the wall with this issue more times than I've slammed my own on the bottom of the upper bunk.

"Ask yourself… if you truly are happy."

It's strange. He says it so simply, yet fulfilling that wish is more complex than it seems. As sad as it sounds, I can't be happy unless I'm better than him. I have to be stronger, smarter, and all around more likeable than Pit is. Then and only then will I be able to find true happiness.

Sometimes he just doesn't seem to get that.

"It would take a miracle for me to do that," I reply plainly. "I work at a dead-end job with lowlife nerds who have nothing better to do than talk about their stupid comic book collections." I see his eyes droop slightly in defeat. "The truth is, Pit… I'm not one of them. I can't be. I'm just a loser street punk. But you know what? I'm okay with that. I can be who I want to be without having to live up to anyone's expectations. And to be honest… that's all I ever really wanted."

He gives me a look, but I can't tell if it's sadness or disappointment I see. Maybe a bit of both.

"Then be who you want to be, Dark," he says. "I'm not asking you to change; I just don't want you to throw your life away."

Aw jeez. Is it really going to be another one of _those_ nights again?

" _You_ put me on this job," I say. "That was _your_ decision, not mine."

"So what? It's not like I'm turning you to drugs or alcohol." He shoves his plate away from himself and puts his arms on the table. "I'm genuinely trying to help you get back on your feet, and it's hard enough without you trying to argue with me all the time."

"You're the one who always has to butt-in," I scoff, but truth be told, I didn't find much of a rebuttal in his statement.

"Don't make me the bad guy here." He's standing up now. "You're just too stubborn to admit that what I did was actually good for you."

"As if. You're probably just waiting for me to make enough money so that I can live on my own."

"So now you're a free loader?"

"That's not what I meant!"

I stand up as well, baring my teeth at him. I want to hate him, but the longer I stare, the more I start to see myself. The thick mat of hair, the soft round face, everything is a perfect reflection as if I'm standing across from the bathroom mirror. I see a sharp nose, bubbling eyes, I even see his outstretched wings, and judging from the tension in the room, mine were likely in the same state.

"Dark," he says. "I don't want to fight with you. I just wish you could be more like the brother you're supposed to be."

"And be more like you?" I reply instantly. "Not gonna happen. I've lived my whole life with people telling me to be more like you, and I'm sick and tired of hearing it."

"You don't have to be like me," he says. "You just have to be good."

"I'm not good though." Suddenly, I feel a speck of dust in my eye. At least, I think it's dust. "Look at me. Nothing about me is good. I'm just a shadow."

"Well if you believe that then you might as well be!"

"So be it then. This world has enough problems with one Pit in it already." A glare escapes me, intentional or not. "No point in there being two."

I push away from the table, knocking my chair over in the process. His voice urges me to stop, but I outright refuse to comply. I'm also not dumb enough to be trapped here in the house with him, thus I grab my jacket and shove out the door. This was usually the route I took whenever we got into an argument. At least I didn't flip any tables this time.

You know, it's weird for me to think about how different I have to be around him. Out here in the real world, I'm cool, clever, and a pretty decent guy all around. I work hard, I set my mind on something and I see it through from beginning to end. Anyone who wants to pick a fight with me can go right ahead, for I'm more than willing to make them regret ever setting foot in my hometown.

I can't be like that with Pit though.

When I'm around him, I have to keep to myself. I have to be cautious, distant, a mere shadow of what most people have come to recognize me by. I might as well wrap myself in my wings and be quiet, since the only thing that ever comes out of my mouth are words that strike a match over the field of conflict. I hate being the one who walks away first.

As I shuffle down a street of random faces, I can't help but wonder if Pit will be fine doing the dishes on his own. I can picture him clearing the table, wiping down the cloths, and tidying up everything in his white angel apron. He almost always took care of the house chores, and a while ago I never really gave it a second thought. Although, since I was there eating with him, I can't help but feel somewhat responsible for leaving him behind…

But I can't apologize. I absolutely cannot, must not, and will not apologize to him under any circumstances. Whether he's right about the job or not isn't the point. I'm just tired of having to look up to him, to depend on him for everything. If all I do is what he tells me, I might as well be a shadow. Pit's shadow. Or _Pit-two_.

Now that I think about it, being a shadow wouldn't be all that bad. I mean, for one thing I'd always have company to talk to. I'd also be pretty good at dancing, and maybe even jumping… or flying.

A shadow can't think for itself, however. It can only do, like how Dark has to constantly do what Pit tells him because Pit knows what's best for Dark. Pit doesn't know Dark though. Pit doesn't even know about Kuro.

Holy crap it's colder than I thought out here.


	6. They Call Me Kuro

Popstar Comics

* * *

Chapter 5: They Call Me Kuro

* * *

It's twelve o'clock noon on the dot when I arrive on Fourside Avenue. On a sunny day like today, I'm expected to work six hours, with an hour break at some point in the early part of the evening. So really, I was to hang around the place for about seven hours, which sucks big time because I could think about twenty other things I'd rather be doing with my time on a Friday afternoon.

Mechanically, I approach the glass doors of the store, taking my daily glance at the large sign atop it. The Popstar Comics logo is represented by a chubby star, with its name in red lettering circling the orbit like a planet's ring. Compared to the Asian diner next to us, we look pretty sad. Their side is all decked out in gold and green, with plenty of pictures showcasing various dishes such as fried rice, spring rolls, and sushi. They even have a few seats outside the restaurant in case anyone wants to enjoy the smoggy atmosphere of the neighbourhood. Compared to us, they're like the main subject in an artist's painting, while our shop remains to be just dull colors in the background used to enforce the look of whatever is in the foreground. We're a shop that many people don't notice, except for those who have good eyesight and a keen interest in anything remotely related to fun.

In other words, we're noticed by kids.

It usually happens around three or four in the afternoon. Children by the masses arrive at the store, all curious and bewildered by the colorful covers of whatever's on the hot-seller rack for the day. Allowance money goes right into the register, while copies of Zelda, Mario, and Pokémon are exchanged over the counter ready to be torn open by eager story devourers. Other times, the kids don't even buy anything, and would much rather spend their time hanging out in the store or looking at the board games and figurines. Those kinds of days never last that long though, since Dedede typically shoos them away if they've spent a good half hour in the store without buying anything. I've gotten a few chuckles out of watching those spiels, let me tell you.

As everyone knows, school ends on Friday, and so I'm expecting a large number of kids to show up today this afternoon. It kind of sucks given my situation, but at least after this I'll be able to call it quits and still get paid for it. I might as well go out with a bang too. It'll be Kuro's last hurrah before saying good-bye to this nonsense and all these crazy comic book lovers. Thankfully, neither Dedede nor Falcon works on Friday, which means that it'll just be me and Fox. And since Fox usually tends to the back room, I should have most of the early afternoon to myself. It would sure be a nice change of pace from all the excitement yesterday.

I put my hand to the glass as I go through the door, but I barely hear the chime coming from the bell overhead. My mind immediately becomes overtaken by the sight of a dimly lit room, followed by Lucina standing on a stepladder who appears to be messing around with one of the lights on the ceiling.

"Come on," she mutters. "Come on, come on." The lightbulb she tugs on finally lets go of its fixture. "Gotcha. Whoa!"

I act fast, but honestly I'm not sure what was going through my head at the time. I just see her tumbling backwards like a domino. With ten feet between us, I did the only thing I could do and dove forward.

On second thought, I should have just let her fall.

I land hard on the carpet, hearing a sharp tear from the fabric of my t-shirt. I feel something like a baby rhinoceros land on my back, my ribcage nearly shattering if not for my arms to cushion the fall. Short breaths are caught in my lungs as my heart thumps the ground in panic.

"Oh my gosh!" I hear Lucina say. "Kuro, I'm _so_ sorry!" I feel her roll off of me, which ends up crushing my right arm in the process. I hold back a tear, as well as a hundred curse words between clenched teeth. "Are you okay?"

I open my eyes and she's on the floor next to me. With a sigh, I sit up, but I barely notice that she helps to lift me.

Wait a second, did she just touch me?

"I'm fine," I snap, retracting my arm from her. "You should be more careful."

Her eyes drop, much like Pit's did in the previous night. I realize that it was the jerky motion in which I pulled my arm away that startled her.

"I'm sorry," she says again. "I thought I could change the lightbulb on my own before you showed up."

The bulb that was in her hand is now on the floor next to us, but the top of it has already blacked out. Apparently it was a dud.

"That's weird," I reply. "Falcon replaced it yesterday before you came to work."

"He left a note on the door," she says, fishing a small paper out of the back of her jean pocket. "The bulb he replaced yesterday was actually an old one. He said he left the real one under the counter and forgot to change it." She glanced at the note again. "Although, I really don't understand why they would keep a faulty lightbulb in the first place."

I can think of three good reasons. One, Dedede is cheap, two, he's trying to save money, and three, he probably thought there was some juice still left in it. Oh wait, those reasons all mean the same thing.

"Do you have the good one?" I ask. At this point I just wanted the damn light to be fixed. The room was surprisingly dark despite the presence of large front windows.

"I've got it right here," she says, producing the new bulb in question. "I was going to—"

I swipe it from her, pulling myself to my feet, and then the stepladder. In a matter of seconds, I've installed the bulb, folded up the ladder and flicked the lights on. Lucina stares at me in bewilderment.

"Next time, wait until someone else is here," I say to her.

"O-Oh," she replies. "Okay…" She gets to her feet, and for a moment there's nothing but awkward silence between us. She quickly mutters, "Fox is in the back. I didn't want to ask him though because I thought he was busy."

I suddenly remember that Fox was Lucina's ride in to Popstar today.

"You can still ask," I say. "If he's busy he'll just say he's busy." But then I thought how busy could he be for a guy who works in a freakin' comic book store?

"He said that Fridays are usually one of our busier days," she explained. "So he's checking to make sure we have enough copies in the backlog for all the popular series."

Mario, Pokémon, Zelda, I swear I've heard these three names more times than I've heard my brother call me by my own. Even Lucina is repping the Super Mario series with a shirt that has the Italian plumber himself stamped on it. Does she keep a closet full of these novelty shirts at home?

I'm reminded of my own clothes, but thankfully there's no visible tear anywhere from the fall I took. At least, I don't think there is.

"We're working the front then," I say, and rather unenthusiastically at that. As long as Lucina is here, I can't goof off lest I get scolded by one of my co-workers. So much for easy Friday…

"Okay." Her mellow attitude from before seems to have washed over with the diligent Lucina I met yesterday. "So what should I do first?"

"Um… You can…"

I scan the room looking for a task to assign Lucina. Since today is my first real day playing the leader, coming up with a job for her becomes pretty difficult. It's not like I ever paid attention to my other duties either since most of the time I swear they were making me move boxes or sweep floors. It can't be that hard; Falcon comes up with tasks all the time.

Eventually, my eyes fall on the windows across the room.

"First," I say, "You can toss the burnt lightbulb. Then you can wash down the windows front to back." An uncontrollable smirk inches over me. "Cleaning supplies are in the storage room, and you can use the water from the bathroom to rinse." I pause to remember if there's anything Dedede would say at a time like this. "Make sure you don't waste any water, and only fill up half as much as you need."

Lucina nods her head several times as I explain the details, but she doesn't actually go anywhere until I tell her that she can start. Soon enough, she disappears into the back and I can hear running water from the room. Naturally I take my seat at the captain's helm, leaning back in my chair to look at random papers and other notes that are under the counter.

" _That ought to keep her busy for a while_ ," I thought. Not gonna lie, I felt pretty good giving direct orders like that.

Whoops, forgot to write on the sign-in sheet. Eh, they won't notice.

* * *

It's by some bizarre coincidence that none of the customers who come to the store this afternoon ask me for anything. It's not like I try to avoid confrontations. Okay, well maybe I do, but if they need help then it's their job to ask for it—not me. That's how it's supposed to work right?

Lucina remains preoccupied by the windows, greeting people as they pass by her with a welcoming smile. Of course, I notice that smile quickly disintegrate once she gets back to scrubbing down the glass with her mop. Watching her work reminds me of how Falcon would sit back here and watch me do the hard labor. Now the tables have turned, although honestly I wish it was him doing the washing instead of Lucina. The task I gave her kind of seemed like an unfair punishment that should have been directed at someone else.

Oh well, at least the windows will look nice after this.

"Afternoon, Kuro."

"Huh? Wah!" I tumble from my seat as Fox McCloud enters the room. His eyes fall to my own while I hit the floor, a mistake I made for getting a little too comfortable on the stool. Being the supervisor that I am, I thought it would be appropriate to put my feet up on the counter, but I didn't expect him to emerge from the depths of the back room so soon.

"Working hard I see," says Fox slyly, pulling a small trolley with comic books behind him. I climb back up to the counter as he maneuvers the trolley down the main aisle.

"Harder than you," I retort. "At least we're getting something done out here."

"You mean, _she's_ getting something done out here," he replies, nodding his head towards Lucina. Thankfully she was now working on the outside part of the windows and couldn't hear our conversation.

"What can I say; I'm a delegator." I heard Falcon use that word a few times, but he always pronounced it weird. With the way he says it, it sounds like he's saying "deli-gator," as in an alligator who works at a deli. I still can't help but think of that when I say it though.

"Okay there, Falcon." Fox pulls the trolley around to the hot-seller rack and begins unloading the stack of books. "If you aren't too busy, I could use some help."

I'm suddenly feeling sour all over again, but without an excuse I shuffle over to his position and start taking things off the rack. I notice that the comics he brought in are more of those Pokémon ones.

"Omega Ruby and Alpha Sapphire," he explains. "Hot off the presses too." He holds a copy to his snout and takes a whiff. "Fans have been dying for these babies for years and finally Nintendo delivered."

I barely hear his last comment because I'm so weirded out at how he practically inhaled that new paperback aroma. I refrain from saying anything about it, deciding that at the end of the day, this conversation was just not worth having.

"Pokémon, Pokémon," I mutter instead. "I don't understand how this series is popular."

"This is nothing," says Fox with a smirk. "You should have seen this franchise back in '97. There was so much Pokémon merchandise that they practically flooded the shelves of every toy store in the city." He pulls a comic off and replaces it with another one. "Some kids outgrew the series, but true fans remain to this very day. If you're curious, you should read a few of these yourself. Personally, I recommend the Gold and Silver series. Even with the reprints that came out a few years ago, nothing can beat the original releases."

"Thanks, but I think I'll pass," I reply nonchalantly. "Comics just… aren't my thing."

Yes it was an understatement, but like I said I wasn't about to get into another discussion about why I am the way I am.

"Is that so?" he says to me, a rather surprised look on his face. "You're not a fan?"

"Not really." Yet another understatement. "I just don't have time for them. Not to mention I can't afford it." And that last excuse came out on the fly.

"Well, you're free to read anything from the backlogs during your break if you're interested. It's mostly junk, but there are some hidden gems in there like Duck Hunt and Bubble Bobble."

He's says it to me as if I've heard of these comics before, but I can't even imagine what a story with a title like _Bubble Bobble_ would be about.

"Thanks, but I think I'll pass," I reply flatly. His shoulders shrugging were a sure enough sign that he finally got the message. Despite my attempts at cutting our conversation short, it seems that it wouldn't have mattered anyway due to the arrival of some new customers. We finished lining up the Omega Ruby and Alpha Sapphire copies just as a city bus pulls up in front of the store, dumping a hefty amount of kids, teens, and parents at Popstar Comics' front door.

"Three already?" muttered Fox, glancing at his watch. "Alright, better call in Lucina now."

He pulls the trolley to the back room, but I notice that Lucina has already begun packing up her cleaning supplies. Not only that, but the windows are practically sparkling. I can actually read the name of the coffee shop across the street now.

The front door opens as the crowd pours in, and already I'm back behind the counter in my safe zone. The store suddenly booms to life as people reach for the new issues of Pokémon, kids already tearing through the pages and talking to their friends about the colorful pictures and texts held within.

To my surprise, Fox is in the crowd too, helping customers locate the comics they need, or simply discussing whether or not Nintendo will include the _Delta Episode_ (whatever that is) in the new comics.

"Excuse me. Pardon me," comes Lucina's voice as she zigzags through the store in order to reach me. She's holding her mop, as well as a bucket of dirty water.

"Watch yourself," I say, but I don't bother to open the rear door for her. My eyes are set on the group of kids peering through the glass cabinet where the figurines are stored.

"I didn't know it gets _this_ busy here," she replies, pushing her way through the door with her back. I guess she didn't hear my comment, but that doesn't matter anyway as she's soon back out here to help manage the floor. "What do you think?"

"…What do I think of what?" I reply, turning my attention back to her. I notice that her hair is a little damp, and I think about how nice it would be to dunk my own head in some water to escape the mugginess of this place.

"Of the windows," she says, and there's something like a laugh tailing the end of that sentence.

"Oh." I take a quick glance despite the fact that I've already seen them. "They're nice. Good work."

"Thanks. So I guess now we're just helping out in here?"

"Yeah, pretty much." It was like this every Friday. Customers flock during the after-school rush, and we always need at least two people out front in order to deal with the traffic. Granted, since it was usually Fox and I before, I was typically the one who remained behind the counter since Fox was naturally better at conversing with the customers. That wasn't about to change any time soon. "Just go around and see if anyone needs help finding stuff. I'll be back here to man the register."

"Okay," and she nods her head before zigzagging her way back through the bodies.

I turn my attention back to the figurine shelf, and those kids are still hanging around it like mosquitos at a horse ranch. I remember Dedede would always get mad whenever he saw people loitering near the toys with no intention of buying anything. He's the kind of person who would charge people for breathing the air in his establishment if it wasn't already illegal to do that. No wait… Is it illegal? I don't know, but I'm not about to give him any ideas.

"Excuse me," says a boy at the counter.

My attention is once again torn from the cabinet as I'm met by two kids, both boys who appear to be together. They seem to be around the same age, similar to the Villager from the other day but not nearly as dishevelled as him. The one boy is wearing a red baseball cap and a striped t-shirt, and I notice him place a comic book on the countertop.

"Yeah?" I reply, but naturally I already know why they're here.

"We'd like to buy these," the boy says, and he looks surprised when he sees that there's only one book on the counter. He turns to his friend muttering, "Hey, put yours up there too."

The other boy, pale with wavy blond hair, jumps at attention when I look at him. Right away I can tell he's one of those timid types, reminding me of the kids I used to bully in school. Years later and they still haven't changed, although he does seem to be sporting a striped shirt similar to that of the baseball cap kid.

"Um, r-right," he says quietly, and with a shaky hand, his copy of Omega Ruby is placed on the counter.

I reach out to grab the book and he retracts his hand immediately as if he thought I was going to smack him or something.

"What's your problem?" I ask, brushing the comics over the scanner.

The blond boy shudders and appears to shrink into the ground. He refuses to look at me.

"Don't mind him," says baseball cap kid. "He's always like this when he talks to strangers."

"N-no I don't," replies blond boy, but he had no rebuttal to follow up that statement.

I ignore their comments, checking the total price on the screen. As expected, customers who purchased both of the new Omega Ruby and Alpha Sapphire issues together received a ten percent discount on the whole purchase. It's one of our many in-store promotions.

"It's four-eighty all together," I say, and the two boys are already fishing their pockets for this week's allowance money.

"Here." Baseball cap hands me some coins, a small collection that he and his friend had amassed.

"You're short ten cents."

The blond boy frantically searches his pockets for more change, but all that comes up is a twisted paper clip and a broken pencil.

"Sorry, Ness," he says to baseball cap kid. "I'm all out."

"Hang on." The kid (who apparently went by the name of Ness) pulls off one of his shoes and shakes a coin out of it. "Ah! Here you go."

I'm somewhat disgusted and surprised as I receive their payment, and two seconds later I've dropped the comics into a plastic bag and handed it back over the counter.

"Later," I mutter, hoping this will be the last time I talk to these two clowns for the rest of the day.

"Thanks!" says Ness, but instead of scurrying off to read their new comics, the two kids remain in front of the counter. "Say, are you new here?"

I quickly debate whether or not discussing my personal schedule with these strangers is worth getting into or not. They must have been regulars, but in all honesty this is the first time I've ever seen them.

"Sort of," I reply, looking down at them. "Why, what's it to you?"

My scary face has luckily frightened the blond boy again, and I have to admit that I'm enjoying the sight. The boy named Ness pulls him forward again though, as he appears to stand firm and unafraid.

"Nothing to me," says Ness. "But my friend here says that he knows you."

"Nessss," the other boy whines. "What are you—"

"Come on man, do you want to find out if he's real or not?"

They're whispering to each other about something, and now I'm kind of curious. With Fox and Lucina dealing with other customers, these two kids were the only thing I had to worry about at the counter. I find myself leaning forward a little in order to get a better ear in their conversation, but jump back when they both glance at me.

"I hope you don't mind," says Ness all of a sudden, "but Lucas has a question for you."

So the name of the blond boy turns out to be Lucas, and he's staring up at me with sharpened eyes. I notice that his legs are quivering, but I commend him for putting on his big boy pants so quickly.

"Alright then, go ahead," I reply. "I don't have all day."

"S-sir, I was just wondering," says Lucas, his fists clenched in tight knots. "Is your name Kuro?"

My, my, what gave you the first hint, genius?

"Yeah," I say, but I'm not looking too impressed. I flash my nametag on the front of my shirt, a four letter word that I myself had scribbled on with a Sharpie.

"No," Lucas replies, much quieter now. "Are you _the_ Kuro?"

Am I _the_ Kuro? They couldn't possibly mean the Kuro who only walks at midnight, the very same Kuro who beats up punks in alleyways, and steals money from snobby business owners. I haven't seen _that_ Kuro around for a while now.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I say flatly. If these kids recognized me, there's no way in hell I was going to take a chance here in the store, at least not with Fox and Lucina within earshot.

"Come on, Kuro, you can't fool us," says Ness, hopping on his tiptoes briefly. "We know those wings from anywhere!"

I feel my wings folding out of sight on their own, but I make no reaction whatsoever. I can't figure out how these two bozos know me, as I sure as hell don't recognize them from anywhere. Did Wario put them up to this?

"Can I help who's next over here?" I say loudly, but to my dismay no one else has lined up behind them.

"Come on, Ness," murmurs Lucas as he grasps his friend by the arm. "Let's get out of here."

"No way." Ness raises his chin. "I want to know if it's true or not."

"If what's true or not?" I ask automatically.

"If Kuro has really retired."

As I anticipated, several rumors have already been spread about me and my current standing with the Gerudos. I suppose it's partially my fault, having overstayed my welcome here at Popstar Comics. After I disappeared, people thought that I had given up on the gang, and that I was seriously turning over a new leaf in an attempt to start life all over again. Little did anyone realize however, that I never planned on staying, and I'd bet my own feathers that Ashley started those rumors. She'd practically do anything to have me back.

Nevertheless, the fact that Ness and Lucas know more about me than I know about them pisses me off. In less than two seconds, I'm leaning over the counter and towering over them with yet another menacing glare.

"Listen here you little punks," I growl. "Kuro hasn't retired and he has no plans of doing so any time soon. I'm only working here to prove a point to someone who got on my bad side, so unless you want me to do the same to you, I suggest you haul your asses out of here before I dropkick you to the curb."

A final slam on the counter seals the deal as both of them shake their heads in terror, but unfortunately they remain rooted in place. It seemed as though my threat had petrified them.

I could have gone on, but a surge of commotion brought our discussion to a halt when I heard someone shouting from the front of the store. There were screams, a break in the crowd, and then I saw Fox trip and knock over one of the standing comic racks. The figure of a cloaked individual escaped my eye through the shimmering windows.

"Someone stop him!" a customer shouted.

"Kuro!" Fox was on the ground as customers tried to lift the metal display unit off of him. "Call the police!"

I could hear him loud and clear, but I wasn't about to call any police department. I barely caught wind of the crime as it took place, and for some reason I knew that pressing that button under the counter would be a waste of time. I didn't stop to think about it. In one swift motion, I leaped over the countertop, landing just in time as Ness and Lucas fell out of the way. My feet seemed to move on their own as I weaved through the crowd as smooth as a bobsled on ice.

"Kuro," called Lucina. "What are you—"

I didn't hear her though, for the next thing I knew I was out the door and on the sizzling pavement of Fourside. And just as I expected, there was the cloaked character sprinting down the street, shoving past any and all pedestrians that stood in his way.

I gave chase.

"Stop!" I shout, running through the openings of people. For a Friday it was surprisingly busy outside, what with the construction crews, maintenance workers and everything. I hurdled over fallen pylons, mailboxes, and even some unfortunate bystanders who just so happened to be standing in the wrong place at the wrong time when the shadow swept through. I could see the back of his pants, but whatever he was wearing fluttered up and covered his head. One thing was for certain: He was short.

The thief ducks underneath a large mirror that two shmucks were loading onto a moving truck. I hesitate for a moment before deciding that seven years bad luck couldn't possibly be any worse than what I've had to go through all my life. The guys carrying the glass fixture flinch and slam their eyes shut, and with the agility of a fox I slide gracefully beneath the mirror, and then I'm back on my feet chasing the comic thief for another two or three blocks.

Eventually, the guy breaks off into an alleyway, and for a second I hope that it's a dead end. I follow suit, but I notice at the turn that the thief dropped one of the comics he was carrying. Up ahead there is a chain-link fence, and I see the kid attempting to climb over it.

"Not so fast!" I say, lunging forward and grasping the thief by his ankle. Some more comics drop, and just as I'm about to grab him with my other hand, he kicks me off, sending me tumbling to the dirt.

I catch a glance of his face as he climbs over and I'm shocked that I recognize him. He lands in a dumpster before jumping to the ground and running through to the next alley. The thought of going after him again doesn't even occur to me.

"The Villager…" I mutter between hard breaths.

Yes, the face of the thief did belong to that of the boy I spoke to a few days ago in Station Square. I don't understand why though. I recall him mentioning to me that he was trying to maintain a low profile, however, it seems that the cause of the mass break-ins recently originate from him and his clan.

It's a shame too since up until this point I thought that he and I were pretty good friends.

" _When I see him again I'm gonna…_ "

"Kuro, are you alright?"

I turn around to see Lucina trotting to me, but before I can say anything she's already helping me to my feet. The alarm in my brain goes off again as she puts her hands on me.

"Yes, I'm fine," I reply, and I pull away from her like before, only this time I end up falling to the ground again like someone just kicked me in the shin. "Ow!"

"You're hurt," she says to me. "Come on, let's get back to the store." She lifts me up again, and as much as I want to resist, I can't. Something in my right leg in killing me, probably just after the kid knocked me off the fence.

"I think I sprained my ankle," I mutter.

"It's okay. I'm just glad you're safe." She walks me out of the alley and back onto the street. I try not to lean on her too much. "Did you see who it was?"

I did, but was it worth telling her about it? Sure she was just as involved as I was being a Popstar employee, however, seeing the face of that Villager sparked a different kind of emotion in me. I wasn't just upset that we had been robbed; I was infuriated. And the fact that I had talked to him recently makes this assault more personal than I would have thought.

"N-No," I say to her. "He disappeared before I got there." We pass by one of the fallen comic books, an issue of Alpha Sapphire turned to a random page. The illustrations depicted two colorful monsters fighting each other just as the Villager and I had done moments before. I scoop it up before I find myself studying the front cover of a large whale-like creature with ginormous fins. It was a little torn, but you could tell by looking at it that this issue was hot off the presses.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Some people have asked why this story is labelled as a Crime, and I hope this chapter gives you a better idea as to why. I know the summary describes this as a slice-of-life, but there is a main plot that the story will follow, coupled with odd one-shotish chapters that will be sprinkled every now and then. Since I'm still building the world and characters as chapters go, the plot will remain the primary focus for a little while before we eventually branch off to a universe that is truly alive and breathing. Many thanks go out to Varanus K, SolarEnergy07, Arctic01, flowslikepixels, PozzyP, ChaosxPaladin, Dario Flaman, and Kinkajou321 for leaving reviews! And Kinkajou, I did add your new friend code, and to answer your question, Cloud, Corrin, and Bayonetta will be making appearances at some point in this story, although I'm still trying to figure out their roles. I'd love to play Fire Emblem Fates with you, as well as anyone else who plans on picking it up this month. I hear that it has multiplayer support so hopefully we can play that together! Thanks for reading all and I'll see you in the next update.


	7. Burning Man

Popstar Comics

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Okay, I admit it. This chapter is a month late because I've been doing nothing but playing Fire Emblem Fates during my free time. And I'm constantly reminded that I have to update whenever one of my readers visits my castle (thank you so much, especially you Kaden!). Ahem, that aside, I can't say right now whether or not I'll be able to keep updates consistent. Give me until late April to come to a decision on how regularly I can write these, since the rest of my time has naturally been reserved for school. Anyways, I'd like to thank Aurawarrior13, prowessMaster44, Zulera301, SolarEnergy07, Kinkajou321, flowslikepixels, Light My Crazy Diamond, Dario Flaman, RecklessBaka, Kurocena, and any other guest reviewers for leaving their review/comments from the previous chapter. I believe I replied to everyone already (except for anons obviously), but if not, then let me say now that you have my utmost sincerest thanks for taking the time to leave your thoughts on the story. All that said, here is chapter 6, and it's about damn time too!

* * *

Chapter 6: Burning Man

* * *

On the night of the day of the robbery, I paid a little visit to Station Square with only one thing on my mind. I wanted to find that Villager and ask him what the hell he was doing stealing from the store, let alone a store that sells comic books. Kids like him were known for being pickpockets, but between food and money I figured comic books would be the last thing they'd be preying on. I shuffled through the plazas, walking my leg without making it look like I was dragging it around like a wounded animal. The bandage that Lucina had put on me kind of helped, but I think I'd be better off just putting more ice on it. At least with my pants covering it, no one would be the wiser.

When we returned to the store, a police cruiser was already on sight. Apparently, someone _did_ call the cops, and multiple people were being questioned on the incident, although I'm fairly certain the only suspect is the one who got away. Due to the robbery, Popstar had to close its doors three hours earlier, and on any normal day I'd be apathetically ecstatic. It goes without saying that both Lucina and I were confronted to give our descriptions on the scenario and the cloaked individual who managed to escape.

"Everything happened so fast," said Lucina. "I heard a crash and Fox yelling, and then I realized that we had been robbed."

The officer who was questioning us wanted specific details on the criminal, and thankfully the pain in my leg made me look more the victim than the store. I didn't recognize the policeman, nor did he to me, but for some reason I couldn't bring myself to relinquish everything I knew.

"He was wearing dark clothing and was really short," I had explained. "Probably no taller than five feet."

"And you said you went after him?" the officer asked.

"I did. He got away before I could stop him though. The only thing I could save was this comic."

They had confiscated the issue of Alpha Sapphire, but honestly I doubt they were going to get any information from that. A fingerprint scan would only get them so far in a city with so many Villagers, not to mention that any real thief would have been wearing gloves upon leaving the store. I just wanted the cops to get out of my face. They make me anxious.

Eventually after the questioning we had met up with Fox, and we also got to hear his side of the story. Apparently the criminal had shoved one of the comic racks on him, which explains the crash that I heard when the robbery took place. Those metal casings can be heavy if not handled properly (I should know since I'm the one that sets them up). As soon as Fox went down, the thief took the opportunity to grab what he could and make a break for it. We counted that approximately thirteen issues of Omega Ruby and nine issues of Alpha Sapphire had been stolen (not counting the one that I recovered).

"Damn thing caught my leg," Fox told us. "I couldn't stand so I did the next best thing and called Kuro. Good on you for thinking so fast, man."

Of course, he was referring to the way in which I moved from the back of the store to the front of it in less than three seconds. Not that I told him, but when you've lived on the streets for so long, you tend to pick up a thing or two about being alert.

"I could've stopped him," I said, "but people kept getting in my way."

"You tried your best," Lucina responded. "I'm just glad it didn't get any worse."

At the end of the day, comics were comics. Sure, some were worth more than others, but the thing is these comics that the Villager stole were brand new. Fox even said himself that they were "hot off the presses," meaning that if we needed more we could easily just order some. Issues that ran for a lot of money were typically the ones that went out of print, but with all the hype that Pokémon drives around here, I doubt Omega Ruby and Alpha Sapphire will die any time soon. This leads me to wonder why though. Why would the Villager steal comic books? And more importantly, why was he trying to run away from _me_?

"There's no point in telling Dedede since he's bound to find out sooner or later," said Fox. "In any case, the store's closed for the day."

Fox locked up, but the police stuck around for a little while longer. If they got everything they needed from me, I was perfectly fine with getting the heck out of here. With Fox and Lucina being from the east end, he gave her a ride home, and he had also asked me if I wanted to be dropped off at my place.

"I can walk it," I said. "My leg is fine."

But in reality I wanted to say something along the lines of refusing to let these two anywhere near the vicinity of my home.

"You should really come with us, Kuro," said Lucina seriously. "You're hurt bad."

"I already told you I'm fine," I remember saying to her, and I also remember demonstrating just how fine I was by hopping around on the sidewalk and falling over on my side miserably. "I, ugh, have to stop by a couple places on my way home anyway."

"You sure?" asked Fox.

"Yeah. Don't worry about me. Besides…" I flutter my black wings. "I can always fly home if it gets bad."

That seems to convince them despite the fact that I can't actually fly. They don't need to know that either though. No one does.

"Okay, well, have a good weekend then. See you next week."

"Bye."

And now here I am in Station Square, hobbling around like an old man with a stick up his ass. It wasn't so much my leg, but my ankle, which stung like needles every time I bent it back or forwards. I must have landed on it somehow during my encounter with the Villager, yet another reason why I was so keen on finding him. I needed to pay him back for the deed.

As per usual, Station Square was bustling with downtown activity, amplified even more due to the fact that it was a Friday night. The main strip was walkable as most people were either loitering in groups or occupying themselves with the shops and booths. I had to decline a smoothie from the DK Bros. this time, although the thought occurred to me that putting the smoothie on my shin might have helped in the healing process. Other vendors I passed by I tried to ignore, despite them trying to wave or get my attention. Unlike the other nights, I was here for a business, and I wasn't about to let that reason slip by me unnoticed.

I scanned the plaza, looking for any sign of the pickpocketing Villager kids. They all shared a similar shape, being short with somewhat large heads. The tricky part was picking them out from other members of the crowds, since Villagers were always known for being masters of disguise. They could fit with a flock of school kids easily, or even pass as innocent children by merely standing next to adults. These were all valid techniques in the art of pickpocketing, but apparently they were passed that now and moved on to bigger things like vandalism and stealing. Talk about a drastic change.

Further down the square is a circle of people, all crowding around what appeared to be a street performance. There were cheers coupled with the explosive display of flames and lightning shooting straight up in the air. Some folks were sitting on the ground watching the show, while others had cameras and phones out taking footage of the whole thing. From my personal experience, I'd say that if you've seen one light show, you've seen them all. This specific group I especially prefer to avoid, and in my opinion I have very good reason to do so. Normally it wouldn't be a big deal, but like I said before, tonight I just didn't have time for—

"Well, look who it is! Is that Kuro I see?"

One of the performers calls out to me as I pass by, yet I remain unwavering in my steps.

"It is indeed!" sings the other performer, a woman this time. "There's no better victim—I mean, volunteer—than sweet little Kuro!"

"Kuro! Come on over here!" the male one calls out. "We could really use your help!"

"Why… Why now…" I find myself muttering, and I continue to press forward pretending not to hear them.

"Come on everyone!" calls the female. "Let's get Kuro in on the fun! Kuro! Kuro! Kuro!"

They're all cheering my name like a bunch of mindless animals, and with deep regret I end up turning an eye towards them. Hesitantly, I decide to join them if not for the fact that I just wanted them to shut up.

"Alright, alright," I say, waltzing through the crowd towards the clearing in the middle. The people break away, most of them cheering and glad that I complied with their obnoxious demands. What I'm met with in the center are two robed magicians and their cartoony caravan.

"Would you look at that!" says the male magician. "We actually got him to join us!"

"Well what do you expect?" sings the female. "He's a featherbrain!"

Ha ha, very funny; it's about as funny as the first dozen times I've heard it. Apparently, it was new to the crowd.

Ladies and gentlemen, meet Rob and Robin, Station Square's most renowned and enigmatic street performers. The do magic acts, party favors, and play instruments from time to time. All you have to do is drop a dollar or two in their basket. If you want to stay for multiple acts, it'll be an extra dollar on top of that, plus fifteen percent interest for each of the following acts. But hey, at least autographs are free.

As you may have guessed, Rob is the male and Robin is the female, although there really is no way to tell one from the other apart from their hairstyle and voice. Both of them prance with a feminine grace, of not for the baggy black robes they constantly wore. I never knew if they were siblings or a couple; hell, they could be both and it wouldn't make a difference. These two magicians were more twins than Pit and myself were, but seriously with the way they spoke they might as well have been two heads on the same body. I knew them kind of well, if knowing them well means being a guy who happens to pass by them every night when he's out on the town. Even I get them mixed up sometimes, so always make sure you remember: Rob is the male, and Robin is the female. Also, they can be kind of touchy, but that's not really worth getting into right now. You'll see what I mean.

"Okay, what do you want?" I say without trying to sound impatient. It didn't come out that way, that's for sure.

"We can see you're a busy man," replies Rob.

"As we all are," echoes Robin.

"As _I_ am," says Rob to his partner in a correcting tone. " _You_ are not."

"I could be," says Robin. "It wouldn't be hard."

"It would be easy for someone like me, for I am a _he_."

" _She_ could be a _he_ if one wishes it to be."

I roll my eyes at their playful banter. Yes, their conversations usually went like this.

" _She_ cannot be a _he_ , for _he_ cannot be a _she_ ," says Rob.

"He can if he wants," replied Robin. "It would be fairly easy."

"Can it?" Rob spares me a glance, followed by Robin who also does the same. And by glance, I mean they narrow their eyes at me while rubbing the bottom of their chins as if they were deviously scheming something. "Yes I could see that. But regardless of whether or not _he_ is _she_ or _she_ is _he_ , anyone can be a volunteer for this act!"

"Anyone indeed!" sings Robin as she breaks away from her partner. "Which is why we have chosen _he_!"

They point to me and the audience claps, for what reason I have no idea.

"We have a very special magic trick for you tonight, ladies and gentlemen," says Rob. "Before we get to that though we'd like to hear a word from our volunteer!"

"Kuro!" says Robin. "Please introduce yourself to our captive audience!"

A spotlight from nowhere shines in my eyes and I'm forced to flinch from the sudden burst of light. To say that I am a stranger to this bizarre situation would be a lie however, since I have acted as a volunteer on this show before (four times as a matter of fact). These two magicians especially like performing their most dangerous tricks on me for reasons that they themselves would be reluctant to admit.

"Ugh, I'm Kuro," I say. "I'm…"

"He's an angel if you didn't already know," says Robin for me. "He's not very outspoken about it, but if you ask me I think those wings speak for themselves!"

"Fun fact!" chimes Rob. "Kuro has a twin brother who looks almost exactly like him, except with brown hair. That's a double dose of angel fever for any of you ladies out there!"

I hate that his comment gets more cheers from the crowd. Also, I don't know how these people know about Pit since it's not like I ever talk about him on a regular basis. I've been in this area for years though so who knows how or when it came up in the first place.

"Tonight we will be performing one of the most dangerous acts in the history of magic acts!" says Robin.

"That's right!" continues Rob, waltzing over to a large box-shaped object in the middle of the square. He wheels it over to me and pulls the drape off of it, revealing a purple storage box with bright stars painted all over it. "Tonight, we perform the Burning Man!"

The crowd gasps, yet I remain indifferent. As scary as the trick sounds, I've actually done it a few times before with them. Basically what happens is I climb into the box, they cover it up, and then they light it on fire. They let it burn for about a minute before dousing the flames. Now, most people would expect that after the box is set aflame, I would just rise out of the box unscathed. Instead, when the box is opened again, my body will be gone. Where will I disappear to?

With any luck, somewhere far, far from here.

"Is everyone excited?" asks Robin. "Let me hear how excited you are!"

The gasping crowd soon turns into the cheering crowd, and then the cheering crowd soon becomes the chanting crowd. There's a drumroll from somewhere as both Rob and Robin kick some stairs out from under the box, allowing me to step up and into the soft casket to lie down. The crowd chants are more creepy to me than anything though with their constant, "Burn. Burn. Burn."

If I didn't know any better, I'd say they _wanted_ me to die.

"And now… Lights!" shouts Rob. A spotlight shines as the lid to the box seals over me and I'm concealed in blackness. I fold in my arms and wait for the grand finale.

"Here we go!" I hear Robin say. Both of the magicians take a few steps back from my box. I anticipate them conjuring their infamous pyrotechnics from their fingertips. The crowd starts the countdown.

"Three!"

"Two!"

"One!"

"Arcfire!"

The box is set ablaze, a shimmering burst of heat rocketing towards the sky. I hear some fireworks shoot off in conjunction with the people in the crowd's "Ohhing" and "Ahhing." There's a little boy asking his mom why they lit the weird angel boy on fire, followed by her hushing him to stop talking and enjoy the show.

Despite the size of the fire, my casket is completely safe, but accidents have been known to happen with the magician twins before. There was one occasion about a year ago where they had invited a young woman to place herself inside of a box, where they would then perform the classic act of cutting her in half. It turned out that they had mixed their "magic saw" with a real one, but thankfully they caught themselves before it was too late. Ever since then, Rob and Robin have always made sure to ask volunteers to sign a contract saying that if anything were to happen to their would-be assistants, they were not responsible for any injuries, damaged properties, or lost items.

Of course, I never had to sign any contract. But that's not because I didn't _want_ to, no—it's because I didn't _have_ to.

Let me tell you something about angels. It's a little known fact, but the thing that sets us apart from humans actually has nothing to do with the wings on our backs, nor does it relate to our quick reflexes and agility. The difference is buried somewhere much deeper, somewhere much closer to the heart.

Basically, angels can't die. They just can't (trust me, I've tried, and you may take that however you wish). You can throw us off the tallest building in the world, and while normal humans would simply go splat, we just pick ourselves off and dust off the sandals like a tumble on the playground. You can stab us, shoot us, heck, you can shove a nuke up my ass for all I care and I still won't go anywhere. We are immortal, and although it may sound like a blessing, in actuality it's more like a curse, especially since Pit and I are the only two angels I know of in this world. Doomed to walk among man, we live the life of a mortal. It's a wonder how the Robin twins ever figured that out about me, but I take it that Ashley dropped them a hint or two at some point in order to mess with me. Ever since they found out about that, I've been their prime volunteer on this show, since liability means nothing when you harm a man who cannot be killed.

"I think I smell something burning," says Rob with a grin.

"It's the casket, you twit," replies Robin equally. "Have you been sleeping this whole time?"

"I just woke up. The smoke must have got in my lungs."

"Go back to bed then. I'll wake you when dinner is ready!"

Their nonsense continues on, and for a moment I feel as though the crowd is genuinely concerned for my wellbeing. Granted, I've been in worse situations before. There were several occasions in the past where I've been held at gunpoint for reasons that I may or may not be put to blame. Those were fun times as well, but take it from me; getting shot in the ribs is not something worth experiencing. Neither is being burned alive as my wings tend to shrivel up faster than a peach in the summer sun. I may be immortal, but I still feel pain as much as the next guy, and I'd even argue that pain between angels and the human heart are practically equivalent.

One may ask at this point how someone might go about killing an angel if they are supposedly immune to death's cold kiss. There is exactly one exception to this rule, and honestly I doubt I'll ever have to resort to it in my lifetime. In order for an angel to die, he must willingly give up his own life in order to save the life of someone else. Now obviously, this would imply giving up a life so that a human can live, which to me makes no sense since all humans are born to die. Prolonging the inevitable is just stupid, not to mention the fact that there's barely anyone on this planet whose life is worth saving anyways. Therefore, the purpose of that exception is pointless, and I'll be damned if I ever meet the god who came up with that rule for us. That day will never come, which means that this right now is my life. This me, right here, in this burning casket, is the person that I'll forever be so long as I continue to walk the earth. Hello, my name is Kuro, and I couldn't care less how your day is going.

"I'd say we let him roast for long enough!" I hear Robin say. "Why don't we open this up to see how he's doing?"

That's my cue to exit this sweaty coffin, and I do so without hesitation. A lever under my right hand reveals a compartment beneath me, while the bed I'm in tilts my feet towards the ground. What follows this is essentially a miniature slide that sends me shooting down an open manhole that my burning box was strategically placed above. The skirt around the bottom of the box shields my escape, and in less than five seconds, I'm climbing back up to the surface some twenty feet away from the main event.

I pull myself up from behind the magicians' caravan, the crowd chatting and watching as Rob douses the flames with a bucket of water. I spare a glance at the scene just as the remaining steam dissipates in the air, noticing that the little boy from before is leaning forward with his mouth agape. Boy, is he in for a surprise.

"The lights are on!" sings Rob.

"The stage is set!" echoes Robin.

"And the angel speaks no more!" they both say in unison.

They strike a pose as the lid to the casket slams open from a gale force, black feathers mixed with colorful party favors shooting up in the air from within. The audience cheers, while some of them remain in awe of how they were able to pull such a cunning trick off. Where did Kuro go?

"I don't know, sweetie," says the mom to her kid. "Didn't you like the show?"

"Did he melt?" the boy kept asking her.

Heh. _That_ would be a painful one to go through for sure.

"Thank you all so much for coming!" says Rob, his partner closing up the lid and wheeling the casket back to the caravan. "We hope to see you all tomorrow night for another spectacular show!"

He pulls some rose petals out of his sleeve and showers the crowd with them. I admit, I still can't figure out how he does that.

As expected, some people decide to stick around to receive autographs and whatnot, but I know at this point that I've overstayed my welcome. They'll be wondering where I came from if I show my face around here tomorrow.

I unceremoniously make my escape, shuffling through a pack of bushes to cut across to the nearest clearing. The mindless chatter from before is merely humming in my ears, but I tune all things out when I recognize a certain oval-headed child wearing nothing but a grungy cowl and licking an ice cream cone. He's standing there among a few other Villagers, watching a street performer pulling off some tricky moves with a hacky-sack. My feet suddenly move on their own, transitioning from a jog to an all-out gallop as I head straight for the thief from earlier today. I almost collapse in a near instant however, as a striking pain shoots up my leg due to the incident from before.

His keen sense of hearing immediately picks up on my clumsy footsteps, and before I know it the Villager has tossed his ice cream, shoving away from his group in an attempt to escape. I can already feel my head throbbing from the sprint, but not one thing causes me to take my eyes off that kid. I call out to him.

Signs and faces ablur, the only color I see is that of the Villager's brown cowl. I can almost reach out and grab him, but the little snitch is faster on his feet than I am. I really had to give it to him, although the way he kept on scurrying simply disgusted me. Like a cockroach ducking for cover from a sudden burst of light.

By sheer dumb luck, the Villager stumbles forward and falls flat on his face. It's by some sort of miracle that I manage to stop without running him over, but it doesn't take me long to realize that his fall was not just a fluke; someone had tripped him.

"You owe me one," says the innocent voice of Ashley, retracting her twig of a leg. She has a smug smirk on her face as she speaks, appearing from the shadows like a phantom.

"I could've got him," I say to her, but that sentence is all I can spare before I've grabbed the kid by his collar and lifted him two feet off the ground. He's trembling in my grasp, and for a moment I'm not sure what to say to him. I just bare my fangs.

"K-Kuro!" he cries. "L-let me explain!"

"Quiet," I snarl. "You better have a good reason for backstabbing me, or I'll slam you so hard you'll have concrete for teeth."

"Nothing to see here, folks," I hear Ashley say, shooing random onlookers away from us. "Just some business between old acquaintances. Go on. Scram!"

"W-well, it's a funny story actually," the Villager says, sweating buckets as he tries to come up with an explanation.

"Spill it." I shake him up a bit, but not too much. His eyes are practically spinning at this point.

"Gah! Please, just put me down! I promise I won't run away again!"

"You better not." I drop him on his feet.

"You gotta believe me when I say that I was set up," the Villager pleads. "I didn't want for any of this to happen!"

"I'm losing my patience," I say unenthusiastically. "Tell me why you stole the comic books."

"Look, if you want the comic books, you can have the comic books! These things are more trouble than they're worth!"

He empties his backpack, dropping the stolen Pokémon issues all over the ground. I don't even look at them, and as he realizes this, he starts to sink into the dirt under the shadow of my glare.

"I ought to turn you in, you good-for-nothing rat," I say. "You made me think you had nothing to do with the break-ins."

"Y-you can't turn me in!" the Villager replies. "I was just doing an odd job for someone! And I got paid! Come on, Kuro, you know what it's like living on the streets."

True, but that didn't excuse his crime, especially against me. Sure, there was a time in my life where I was once considered a criminal, but I didn't go around stealing comics from a bookstore. I planned my heists, specifically targeting snooty businessmen and pompous rich folks who would sooner wipe their own asses with a five dollar bill than drop a quarter at a church. I didn't just do it for myself; I was doing the world a favor.

"That doesn't change the fact that you interfered with _my_ business," I say.

"I swear I didn't know you were working there! I was just told to steal some comics."

"Who hired you?" Ashley asks. "And you better not lie, or else Kuro here will beat you to a pulp and string you out on a clothes line!"

I frown at her, but she responds with a cutesy grin as if her making my threats for me is a thing we do all the time.

"I'm sworn to secrecy," the Villager says seriously. "To be honest, I don't even know who it is. I got a letter yesterday that told me what I had to do, and when I got home this afternoon I found eighty Bells stuffed in my mailbox. Now I've got these comics that I don't know what to do with."

His explanation is suspicious, yet there isn't a name I know of that would fall under the title of "Anonymous Robbery Orchestrator." Thinking about it, it kind of made the situation even more complex. If the Villager was just a hired hand, then was the person who hired him just after the comic books? Was it to spite Popstar or one of its employees? Or perhaps it a way to get my attention?

"Do you have the letter?" I ask, and almost immediately the Villager fishes a note out of his pocket and hands it to me.

The paper is worn, kind of brown, and the writing is in black ink. Ashley scoots closer to me to get a better look, but I ignore her. I can't decipher the owner of the handwriting, and just as my luck would have it, the note isn't even signed:

" _There is a new comic book store that opened on Fourside Avenue earlier this month. Run by there and take some off the shelf for me. I'll make it worth your while…_ "

Oddly enough, there is no mention of shoplifting, and had the Villager had any money on him, the writer of this message might of expected him to just purchase the books like any regular customer.

"I don't buy it," says Ashley. "I say we torture him to get the real truth."

"This doesn't concern you," I reply to her automatically. "Don't you have someone else to bother right now?"

"Are you saying you don't want me here?"

"…Yes."

She wraps her arms around my own. "I'll stay then."

"That's the only evidence I got," the Villager states quickly. "I'm sorry Kuro, but I wish there was more I could give you. Do you believe me at least?"

Oh, I believe him alright, but that doesn't mean that I trust him. He broke whatever bond we had the minute he set foot in Popstar today.

"I'm holding on to this," I say, folding the note into my jeans.

"Oh yes! By all means go ahead! Heck, take the comics too." He gets on the ground and scoops the books into a stack, and rather hastily at that.

"You've gotten soft, Kuro," Ashley mutters distastefully. "I think you've had your head stuck in those books a little too long now."

Her comment irritates me beyond anything she's said this night, and without another word I break apart from her and swipe the comics back from the Villager.

"I've barely touched any of this garbage these people are calling entertainment," I scoff. "And I already told you that the job is just a means to an end. That's all it is and all it ever will be."

"Then why don't you just quit already?" Her question is genuine, and she doesn't appear at all fazed by my reaction.

I want to. Holy crap, do I want to. This job is turning out to be more trouble than it's worth, especially after what happened today. I'm not one to get involved, but the Villager appearing in the store to steal stuff inadvertently _did_ get me involved. And to think I was going to be up and out of here a week ago. How much longer am I going to stall?

"My last paycheck," I say. "I still haven't gotten it thanks to this bozo." I shake my head towards the Villager whose eyes fall to the ground. "I'm going to walk in Monday morning, take my pay, and say goodbye to this trash heap." I pause, if only to make sure that this was the plan that I was truly going to stick with. "That ought to teach Pit not to mess with me again."

My response generates a giggle from Ashley. Recall that Ashley, although appearing as a sweet and innocent little girl on the outside, is actually a devious twenty-something year old on the inside. She tries to play it coy whenever she's around other men, but I'm immune to her tricks since I've known her for so long. Regardless, she often pretends to be my partner in crime despite the fact that I've always been a lone wolf.

"That's the Kuro I know and love," she says. "I can't wait for you to be done with this lame comic stuff so that we can go on some more adventures together."

"Are you two…" the Villager mutters curiously. "…dating?"

"No," I immediately respond, while Ashley utters a definite, "Yes!"

"It's none of your business," I snap at the Villager. "Just get out of my face before I report you. And if I ever catch you near me again during the day, I'll make you regret ever setting foot in this town."

The scamp makes no hesitation to leave, but he's only able to take a few steps before tripping over his own two feet. His face skids the pavement again, although honestly he couldn't look any worse than he already did. Without saying anything, he quickly picks himself up and vanishes into the passing crowds.

"I gave him a little parting gift," says Ashley with a grin. She pulls her wand out from behind her and bops it against her hip. "Just a bad luck curse. That kid will be eating rocks for another month or so."

I had to hand it to her that was pretty funny, but also unusually cruel. At the end of the day, the Villager did return to the comic books, but what he mentioned still baffles me. If he wasn't the one behind the robbery, then who was? And if the comic books had no value to the thief anyway, then what was the point?

"This is going to be a weird one to explain when I go back on Monday," I say, taking a step to resume my nightly run on Station Square. As expected, Ashley tags along like a lost puppy dog.

"Or you could just not say anything about it," she replies. "What those guys don't know won't hurt them, right?"

"True, but I have these now." I motion to the comics under my arm. "And I already have enough paper weights at home between Pit's religion books."

She smirks. "You should bring Pit with you one of these nights. I miss himmm."

She's doing that thing again where I know she's plotting something devilish in that demented mind of hers. Rest assured, I have no intention of hanging around Pit in public at any point in the near future.

"If you keep your hands to yourself then I'll think about it," I say flatly, but she messes with me by making groping gestures in the air with her hands.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Kind of…"

There is a reason why Ashley is so obsessed with me and my brother. Would you guess that the reason has to do with us being angels? No, actually, it has more to do with us just being immortal. She finds it to be a major turn-on, if that makes any kind of sense. That's why she can be clingy at times and also somewhat territorial on occasion.

She's just happy knowing there aren't any other girls in my life.

"So you gonna hang around here for a little longer?" she asks me.

"I don't know," I reply. "I already got what I came for though."

"Aw, come onnn. It's Friday! Let's go party… or eat something! At least try to look like you're enjoying yourself for once in your life."

As much as I hate to admit it, she has a point. Before I started working, I was always out on the town. I used to be carefree, mischievous, and all around a complete badass. I've been more laidback recently, stoic, mostly indifferent to everything going on around me. It's not the life I wanted, but it's the life I must lead to counter that of Pit. He's happy-go-lucky, he's caring, and he's annoying as shit. And I must do my best to be the opposite of that.

Eh, I guess another hour wouldn't kill me.

"Alright fine, but you're buying," I say to her as a smirk slithers across my lips.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Well, I say we learned something very interesting about Kuro and Pit this chapter. As some reviewers have asked, I would like to verify right now that Kuro and Pit are indeed angels, just as most of the other characters in this story represent their original Smash Bros. counterparts. So Fox is most certainly an anthropomorphic Fox, and Dedede is in fact a large penguin wearing a king's robe. For all intents and purposes, you can assume that this story takes place in a world very similar to our own. As for how close I plan on drawing those lines, I suppose I'll have to keep writing before I can come to any definite conclusion. Thanks everyone who has read up to here so far, and I'll catch you in the next update!


	8. Malicious Intent Institute

Popstar Comics

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 **Author's Note:** Thanks to all my readers who have read up until this chapter, and those of you who left reviews including Aurawarrior13, prowessMaster, Zulera301, SolarEnergy, Kinkajou, flowslikepixelz, Light My Crazy Diamond, Dario Flaman, RecklessBaka, and Cowtits the… Udderly Glorious… seriously? That's freaking awesome! Ahem, anyways, sorry for the long wait, but finally I have the next chapter, and it's not anything too crazy. It's really just here to help push the story along, although we will be meeting another new character this chapter, as well as another group of Nintendo-related characters that I bet no one will ever be able to guess the reference of (hint: check the chapter title). Let's continue!

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Chapter 7: Malicious Intent Institute

* * *

Ask anyone and they'd tell you their least favorite thing about the weekend is the fact that it's over way too soon. In my case, Mondays almost never seem to come. Weekends mean I get to spend two whole days in the same house as Pit, sitting around while he works on home renovations ("Apartment Cleanup Time" as he calls it). I make it a priority to vacate the premises as soon as I can, else I'm shoved with mundane jobs not unlike the crap Falcon gives me at work. My idea of day-offs are more adventurous, like the time I stumbled upon a litter of stray kittens in an alleyway. I'm not much of an animal person, but seeing them so helpless and alone kindled a spark of compassion in my heart. Just that one time though. I took them in and nursed them back to health in less than a day, releasing them back in to the city where they would likely get eaten by a dog or run over by a car or something. It's a miserable life for everyone but we all gotta take our punches while the punching is good.

Not this weekend though.

Right now it's almost eight o' clock, but I'm already on my way to work. I wanted to come in earlier, but my stupid alarm still isn't working. Today becomes a day like any of the others past, where I wake up late, throw on some clothes, and barely have enough time to brush my teeth and eat something before I'm strutting up to Fourside. I remind myself of my purpose on this day, and why this day, May 2nd, is so important to me. Today is the day I officially resign from Popstar Comics and get my old life back. Yes. I'm gonna do it. It's time to say good-bye to the _Popstar Bunch_.

I'm not kidding; I'm gonna quit. I didn't even bother wearing my badge today. I'm just gonna walk in there, take my paycheck from last week, and walk out. No words, no exchange of any kind, just hello and good-bye. And good riddance.

But don't think that I'm not going to give them anything in return though. I've got the comic books that Villager stole right here in this plastic bag. At least I have the courtesy to give these back to them (because I sure as hell don't want 'em).

As I make my way down the street on this overcast Monday morning, I notice that farther down the road is a police cruiser with its sirens flashing. For a second, I see flashbacks to the week prior, where officers had questioned me on the identity of the character who had stolen the stack of Pokémon Omega Ruby and Alpha Sapphire comic books.

"There he is," says Falcon, pointing at me, and then beckoning for me to come over. "Kuro, here."

I reluctantly approach, noticing a string of police tape has been laid out around the sidewalk just outside the comic book store. One of Popstar Comics' windows had been smashed wide open, a steel chair half-hanging out of the display where comic books and t-shirts were once set up. The inside didn't look any better.

"What the…" I mutter, a flurry of confusion washing over my face.

"We had a break-in last night."

I glance at Falcon, who was in the middle of explaining the situation to two helmeted cops. As usual, he was dressed in his flashy Captain Falcon getup, probably expecting today to be a regular day just as I was up until now.

"Seriously?" I say, but really I was at a loss for words. In my hand, I literally had a bag full of comic books that the thief from last week had stolen. Unlike that robbery however, this one appeared to be of a much grander scale, as a lot of the building seemed to have been damaged as if some sort of riot had taken place here.

"Didn't you get my phone call?" asks Falcon.

I probably did, but I missed it. Hopefully I can get home and erase the message before Pit hears it by the end of the day.

"No." I make my way to the door, noticing that Dedede and Lucina are also inside talking to another cop. Before I can enter, one of the officers stops me.

"Are you Kuro?" he asks me.

I hesitate, my mind panicking for a moment as I debate whether or not I'm about to be apprehended for whatever reason.

"Yeah," I reply flatly.

"He's one of the new guys," Falcon explains.

"I see. We're just trying to tally how many employees we got here. I hope you don't mind us asking you a few questions." The officer is writing something on a pad, yet I steal a glance at the mess of the store's interior again. Unlike the window, the door to the building seems relatively intact, but I couldn't say the same to some of the merchandise in there. Dedede was probably fuming right now, or at the very least crying.

The other officer mentions something else, but I barely hear it as I shove through the door. "Don't worry about him; he's always like this," I hear Falcon say behind my back. My footsteps bring with them the crinkling of broken glass, and apparently that's enough to tear the current attention in the room away from the crime scene and over to me. A tall woman wearing a large brown overcoat turns to face me, her conversation with Dedede and Lucina obviously derailed because of my sudden interruption.

"Welcome to the party, Kuro," murmurs Dedede, his eyes sagging and half awake. It doesn't look like he got a lot of sleep last night.

I drop the bag on the floor.

"You've gotta be kidding me," I say incredulously.

"This one of your guys?" says the woman in the overcoat. Dedede nods, and the next thing I know she's reaching out to me, and without choice I'm forced to shake her hand. Her grip is firm and her hands are covered by leather gloves. "Hello, Kuro. I'm Samus Aran, the NSPD chief of police."

I notice the large badge over her heart partly covered by her long blonde hair. Despite her title, I don't recognize her at all.

"Hey," is all I say in response. Lucina also gives me a hello in the form of a wave, but her eyes soon fall on the bag of comics.

"Are those the…?" she stops herself.

"I managed to track down the thief from last Friday," I say quickly. "He got away, but I saved the comics. Not that it makes much of a difference."

Part of the ceiling collapses a few feet away, covering loose pages and other knocked down merchandise in debris. The whole store looks as though someone had thrown a massive party here last night, as there were comics scattered into every nook and cranny of the room. The glass cabinets containing the figurines had all been knocked over, while ripped posters and dusty shirts littered the tables. Seeing the place turned upside-down like this was really starting to make my blood boil, what with all the work I had put into cleaning it just a few days prior.

"Good man," chuckles Dedede. "That's why I pay you the big bucks."

"That's what they were telling me just now," says Samus. "So there was a crime that took place here last Friday night?"

"Friday afternoon," corrects Lucina. "There were only three of us running the store at the time and it was packed. One of the customers—a small boy I believe—grabbed a stack of comics and ran out of the store. Kuro went after him, but the boy managed to escape." She smirks at me. "Although now, it looks as though Kuro already took care of business for us."

"Not bad, kid," says Samus impressively. "I guess those wings aren't just for show, huh?"

My feathers fold behind my back without a second thought.

"Yeah…" I reply, averting my gaze to a dent in the wall. "So what happened here last night anyways?"

"That's what's strange," says Samus, glossing over the mess about the room. "The break-in took place at some point between two and three in the morning. As far as we can tell, not a single item was stolen from the store last night—not even a comic book. Hell, even the cash register is still full."

"It's fine that they didn't take anything, but I wish they kept their grubby paws off my stuff!" grumbles Dedede with clenched fists. "They broke into my office and rearranged all my anime figures! You know how long it took for me to get those poses right!?"

 _That's_ what he's worried about?

"Why would anyone do this though?" asks Lucina. "If they didn't come for the money, then what were they after?"

"There are two possibilities," says Samus. She begins pacing across the room, although her boots never once touch anything but carpet. "Either our suspects were looking for something that they didn't find…or they wanted to take their revenge out on someone who works here."

That second option gives me a bad feeling all of a sudden. And for some reason my mind goes back to the Villager I spoke to a few days ago.

"Revenge!?" blurts Dedede. "I knew it! I knew the Gerudos would send someone after me!"

"The Gerudos?" mutters Lucina. "Who are they?"

"The Gerudos," repeats Samus. There's a burning scorn in her voice. "They're a gang, probably the biggest one in the city. They started off small years ago by a man who used to work for Nintendo, but was fired because his work was deemed too offensive for the general public. No one knows where they get their funding from, but normally they stay out of trouble unless they want something. It's hard to recognize them because their sign—the three black triangles—can only be seen on their backs."

She hit the nail on the head, and again I feel my wings folding to cover up my back completely. Regardless, my tattoo is always covered by my shirt, but hearing it talked about in the open like this makes me feel uncomfortable.

"If you see anyone that you may suspect as a member of the Gerudos, please report it to the police immediately," Samus affirms with Lucina who quickly nods her head in response.

"I don't owe 'em anything though!" cries Dedede. "I haven't seen 'em in over four years!"

"Well, I can assure you that the Gerudos are not the ones responsible for this crime," says Samus strongly.

"What? Really?"

She reaches into the bowels of her overcoat, retrieving a clear plastic bag from its depths. The bag contains what appears to be a paper mask with a cartoonish face drawn on it.

"This was found at the scene of the crime this morning," says Samus. "It belongs to a member of the Malicious Intent Institute."

Well, there's no subtlety in that name. According to Samus, the Malicious Intent Institute (otherwise known as MII) is a new gang of thugs in town, although these guys are lowlifes compared to the Gerudos. They're just a group of wannabe tough guys who go around town vandalizing private property and beating up people on the street. They're leader is anonymous, but their purpose is obvious to anyone who bothers to learn the meaning behind the acronym. Destruction is their reward, and they will do whatever it takes to make anyone's day a miserable one. I guess Popstar just so happened to be this week's unlucky pick.

"Creepy mask," says Lucina, and I completely agree with her. The mask is oval-shaped, round enough to cover the face but sharp enough to grip just below the chin. It comes complete with a black patch of hair that spikes in all directions, with two dots for a pair of eyes. The nose is large, square, and sits just above a claw-mustache, all packaged together with a toothy grin scarce of any innocence.

"Reminds me of my cousin," mutters Dedede.

"All members of MII are sworn to wear these masks at all times, although they have been known to leave them as their mark. To them, crime is just a game, but it seems they've started leaking from the east end of town. We believe that they've been recruiting more and more members every day for the past two months now."

It's no wonder I haven't heard of them before. The Gerudos used to rule these streets, but I guess the lack of Kuro lately has caused other groups to expand their territory. I suspect that it's only a matter of time before these bozos become a real threat, but if I know the Gerudos, they won't have any of that. Not while the Grinning Man is still in charge anyway.

"Well, I don't have any beef with them," pouts Dedede. "You guys oughta put a stop to them before they ruin other people's stores!"

"We've been tracking this group for the past month or so," replies Samus. "Just keep an eye out for anyone wearing a mask. A member of MII could be walking around in broad daylight, but no one would ever know unless they had their masks on." She hides the bag back in her coat. "You must understand that these guys are not mere street thugs. And do not be deceived by their harmless appearance, for they always travel in packs. Why, just last week we had a call from a woman who was nearly beaten to death in an alleyway all because she just so happened to be walking alone at night."

"Oh my goodness," says Lucina incredulously.

"I doubt they would target the store a second time, but it still doesn't hurt to take extra precautions. Never be out after dark, especially if you're in Smashopolis' east end. And if you are, at the very least be in an area where people can see you."

That's one of the perks of hanging around Station Square. It may be dark out when I go there, but at least I'm among the crowds.

"Don't worry, Chief," says Dedede. "If I see any of those MIIs wandering around here, I'll be sure to clobber 'em with my trusty hammer."

"Do not provoke them." Samus' tone remains serious. "If you see any signs of suspicious activity, just call the local police department and report it. We have a whole unit dedicated to tracking down this group twenty-four hours a day."

Well, if I see one of those MIIs, I'm definitely going to bust a few teeth in. Like the Villager incident, I take it as a personal offense whenever someone messes around with my business. I wonder if any of those thugs would recognize me.

"We'll be on the lookout," I say all of a sudden. "There's a button under the counter that makes emergency calls automatically." Now that I think about it, I should've hit that button when the Villager first struck last Friday.

"Look at that," chuckles Dedede. "Kuro taking the initiative as always! That's what I like to see, kid. If you keep this up, you might even get your own office like me!"

"You know, now that I look at you, you look kind of familiar," Samus says to me. She takes a step towards me and narrows her eyes. I didn't just blow my cover, did I?

"I-I get that a lot," I reply, cursing internally for stuttering like an idiot. "I have an identical twin brother who delivers the mail around here."

"No, it's not that," she says, and her gaze analyzes me to the point where my wings fold into their defensive stance again. I start to get anxious, wondering if she has x-ray vision and can somehow see the Triforce tattoo on my back. Or perhaps she's heard of me. Plenty of cops have, although very few of them have actually seen my face. "I just feel as if we've met somewhere before."

We have, but only once. At some point during my nightly runs on Station Square I had accidentally bumped into her when she was leading an investigation on one of the Villager kids. I recognized her badge and immediately fled as fast as I could, but that one second of our eyes meeting made all the difference.

"I dunno," I say with a shrug. "Lucina said the same thing when we first met, so I guess I just have one of those faces."

She still doesn't buy it.

"Chief Aran, sorry to interrupt," comes a voice from the door. It's one of the other officers. "Could you please step outside for a moment?"

"Right away," replies Samus. "Excuse me." She gives me one last glance before strutting past me and leaving the store.

"Damn, Kuro," chuckles Dedede. "You're pretty popular with the ladies, aren't you?"

I respond silently with a glare, but the fat penguin is unfazed.

"Do you know her?" Lucina asks me. "She seemed rather persistent."

"I think she just mistook me for my brother," I say flatly. That was honestly the safest answer I could give.

"Well, if he's around, you can tell him to come on down to help fix the shop," replies Dedede. "We're going to need all the help we can get if we're going to clean up this mess."

Do I dare resign at this point? I still haven't been paid for last week's work, but asking about money now would definitely not be a good idea. Not to mention, if I were to quit today, that would just make Samus all the more suspicious of me, and the last thing I needed right now was New Smashopolis' chief of police knocking on my door.

"So I take it we won't be able to open the store today?" I ask curiously.

"If you bust your butt and get this place up to snuff by noon then yes, absolutely!" replies Dedede sarcastically. "That ain't gonna happen though, and especially not with those cops outside. I don't even know if we're allowed to move anything yet since this is still technically a crime scene."

"Oh, eheh," mutters Lucina. "I may have already started cleaning some of this up earlier."

Samus eventually gives us the OK to go through with the cleaning, which I expected since there really wasn't much more for her to find here. If nothing was taken from the crime scene then there was no reason not to fix the place. We started packing up the comics, grabbing some boxes from the backroom and restacking them. Alphabetizing was going to have to be left for another day, and who knows how we were going to get that window repaired. It's kind of a shame too since prior to this whole incident, that window was practically spotless from the wipe-down that Lucina gave it last week.

"Kuro, do me a favor a sweep up that glass outside, will ya?" asks Dedede as he hands me a broom and dustpan. "I don't want to get sued by some shmuck who can't watch where he's goin'."

I take the broom and head outside where the cops are still talking. Falcon is out there as well, although he doesn't look at me when I emerge from the store. He's not saying anything at all as a matter of fact and continues to glare at Samus with his arms crossed, similar to how she was trying to interrogate me before. They're still talking about the crime, but they don't say anything to me until I finish sweeping.

"Son, we'd like to ask you a few questions really quick," says one of the officers as he approaches me.

"I just started working here," I say instantly. "I doubt I'll be much help in your investigation." Whether that made me sound more suspicious or not I didn't care; I just wanted the cops off my back. I hate having to answer their questions.

Surprisingly, Samus puts an arm out to defend me.

"He's clean," she reassures her subordinate. "I got everything I needed when I spoke with him inside."

She gives me a glance, but it's neither cold nor spiteful, and honestly I think she was actually trying to stick up for me. Silently, I return to the store to dump the broken glass.

We continue cleaning up the room little by little. Dedede had actually disappeared into his office not long after I went outside in order to reorganize all of his crap, which left Lucina and I to handle the grunt work. Falcon did not once come inside and remained standing in the midst of the officers' conversation, but his gaze seemed to be fixated on Samus for some reason. It was strange to me though how he didn't say to two words to her all day. It's not like we couldn't hear them speaking through the broken window.

"It's kind of scary when you think about it," says Lucina as she scoops up torn posters and stuffs them in a trash bag, "how anyone could be a member of that Malicious Intent group. This could have been done by someone we know, but we would never have the evidence to prove it even if we wanted to."

I fit another box under the table and start picking up more stray comic books.

"I don't understand why they would target us though," I reply. "It doesn't make any sense."

In all seriousness, it's not like we were working at a bank or a superstore. We sell comic books for a living. The register wasn't missing a dime either, which only leads me to believe that this attack was premeditated, but against who I'm not too sure.

"Do you think King Dedede has some lifelong enemies that are coming back to haunt him like he said?"

"I doubt it." I also doubt that Dedede even has lifelong enemies to begin with, except maybe his local plumber. "Let's just hurry up and get this done. The sooner we finish, the sooner we can get out of here."

"Uh, right. Sorry to distract you."

I glance over at her, but she's staring at the ground as she continues to work.

"You're not distracting me," I say. "I just want to be done so I can go home. I didn't think I'd be spending my day reorganizing the entire shop."

"Well, you're not alone at least. I'm here with you."

Her words are reassuring and they linger in my head much longer than they should have. You know, Lucina's not that bad. She's proven to be a dependable partner in the few days that I've known her, but other than that there's not much else to say. She doesn't fight, she doesn't argue, and she's probably one of the most polite people I've ever come to know.

She'll likely be the only thing I'll miss if I ever leave this place.

"So…" she says, trying to start up another conversation. "How _did_ you manage to retrieve those comics anyway?"

I suppose I don't need to tell her the whole truth. Not yet at least.

"I bumped into the thief on Friday night when I was in Station Square," I explain. "He recognized me and tried to make a break for it before dropping the comics. I really didn't have to do much since he did most of the work for me."

"Oh, and here I thought you did something heroic like pin him to a wall and interrogate him or something," she replies.

"Nah, that's not my style. At least he made me look good today."

She laughs, although it's surprising to me. Did I say something funny?

"You can be so abrasive sometimes," she says. "I can't tell if you're a bad guy or a nice guy trying to play the bad guy."

Good guys and bad guys again, eh? Heh, well I already know where this one is going.

"Believe me when I say that I'm a bad guy," I say straightforwardly. "The good guys are the ones that always win in the end."

"Not all the time. If you ever read _Ocarina of Time_ , you'll learn that the story has three possible endings, one of which the bad guy wins in the end."

"Ocarina of what?"

"It's a Zelda comic," she explains. "I think you'd like it. It's got a lot of action."

I notice I'm holding an issue of Zelda in my hands as I pack away comics. The front cover depicts a young man in green clothing wielding a sword atop a cliff with a shining light coming from behind him. He looks like the stereotypical fantasy hero, but I'll admit that the cover does look cool compared to half the other stuff I see in here. Maybe one of these days…

No, stop. Comic books are for nerds, remember?

"I'll get around to it someday," I say. "If I feel like it."

"There you go again," she says with another laugh. I don't try to stop her this time.

It wasn't exactly the Monday I was hoping for, but it was a Monday nevertheless. Now I couldn't afford to quit because of that stupid Malicious Intent Institute and Samus Aran. Perhaps that wasn't such a bad thing though. Under the guise of a Popstar employee, I could easily scout out for any of those MIIs, and potentially find a link to their leader. I'd like to figure that out before the police do in all honesty. And hey, at least I was still getting paid.

"There's no such thing as overtime pay in this store! Put your backs into it!" Dedede hollers.

If I ever get out of here I swear I'm gonna strangle that penguin with my own bare hands.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Some people reading this are itching for more of that KuroxLucina action. Rest assured, that's coming next chapter. Stay tuned and I'll catch you on the flip side!


	9. Mr Imperfect

Popstar Comics

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Special thanks to Arctic01, CowTits the Udderly Glorious, SolarEnergy07, prowessMaster44, Linkarionerd, kinkajou321, MP36PH3S, RecklessBaka, and Dario Flaman from reviewing last chapter. Also, sorry for the long wait everyone. I know it's been like two months but… yeah, I don't really have an excuse this time. You may throw your rocks and tomatoes at me through your phone and computer screens. Ah yes, keep going. It burns.

* * *

Chapter 8: Mr. Imperfect

* * *

We clocked ten hours of work by the end of the day and to my surprise, Dedede paid us for overtime. He practically shoved the envelope into my hand, stating that he felt bad for putting most of the work on our shoulders. At least he wasn't completely heartless, but he also said he wanted us out by seven o' clock so he and Falcon could finish boarding up the windows. By the time the evening came around, Lucina and I had cleaned up most of the floor and restacked all of the boxes, although we didn't bother setting anything up. Neither of us was expecting Popstar to open its doors to the public again for at least another week.

"I'd like to leave a little early if that's okay," Lucina told Dedede and I. "I want to make it home before it gets dark out."

Without Fox, Lucina has no choice but to bus home on Mondays and Wednesdays. There's a crosstown bus that cycles every half an hour here in the city, driving from the west end to the east end and then back again until the early hours of the morning. The whole ride normally takes about an hour depending on traffic, but it's still a better alternative to walking all the way across the Goldenrod Bridge.

"Yeah, yeah," Dedede replies. "Just make sure you're back here bright and early tomorrow morning. We're gonna get some new windows installed, and this time they better have bars on them!"

She waves goodbye to me as she leaves and I wave back to her.

* * *

I remain behind in order to finish boxing up the last of the comics, while Falcon attempts to reorganize the underside of the counter. Thankfully, none of the glass has been damaged, but a lot of the games and figures that were displayed underneath were strewn all over the place as if someone had rummaged a hand through it all. For all we know, that could have very well happened last night.

"Hey Kuro," he says to me, tearing my attention away from the comics. He barely said two words to me the whole day, which was strange considering his reputation for being the bossiest person I've ever had to work with. "What did Samus tell you?"

The cops had left at some point during the early afternoon. Samus never came back in to say goodbye, but had mentioned to Dedede to give her a call if we saw any more signs of Malicious Intent Institute activity. Falcon had been preoccupied almost the whole day, even after coming inside to help with the work for some reason. Something was on his mind and if I didn't know any better, I'd say it had to do with Chief Samus Aran.

"Nothing much," I reply. "She mistook me for my brother and mentioned some stuff about MII."

Falcon nods his head, but remains curious all the same.

"I see," he says. "So she didn't say anything about me?"

I stare at him dumbfounded since that question kind of came out of nowhere.

"No," I say, and I was telling the truth. "Why would she do that?"

Falcon shrugs his shoulders and returns to his work.

"Eh, forget it. I was just wondering."

He didn't say anything else to me for the rest of the night, and for some reason that made me all the more suspicious as to why he was so interested in Samus Aran. She comes off as the last person I'd want to bump into in the middle of the night, and I'm not just saying that because she's a cop. There was something weird about her when she spoke to me, almost as if she could see right through my words. I wouldn't put it past her if she really did recognize me, but if that was true, then why not arrest me on the spot? She knows something, and I have a hunch that Falcon is aware of it just as well.

* * *

Rain starts coming down, leaving me no choice but to drop what I'm doing and move all the merchandise away from the front of the store. It's merely light droplets at first, but the clouds quickly overtake the red sun. Even though it's not that late, it gets dark outside pretty fast, and for a moment I wonder if Lucina made it to the bus on time.

I finish boxing the last of the comics and scribble my name on the sign-out sheet that surprisingly remains intact. As I leave, Dedede drags some large wooden boards out from the backroom, and puts them against the broken window in front of the store.

"Falcon and I will take care of this," he says to me. "You run along and get some rest before your parents freak out at me for keeping you so late."

I never told him that I didn't have parents, and I probably never will. I find it funny whenever he does refer to them though.

"Yeah," is all I say before I'm out the door and running through the rain. I didn't check the forecast today (not that I ever do) but I wasn't expecting it to rain this much. It's so dark out that Fourside is practically empty, the only sign of intelligent life being the occasional bypassing car.

There's no way Dedede let me out by seven o' clock.

Since it's raining, I can't take my usual detour. I expect downtown to be just as devoid of activity as my street though, and thus decide to book it home as fast as I can. With any luck, they'll have put Pit on nightshift, which means all the leftovers in the fridge belong to me.

I make my way to the next street over, Dreamland, and my apartment is just beyond there. As expected there's no one around, but I do see plenty of lights on in the neighbouring buildings. You'd have to be crazy to be out here in the rain, especially with the temperature so humid. It's a combination of wet and stickiness that I frankly wasn't too fond of, and I could feel my shirt plastering to my back with each step I took.

A few more blocks and my street comes into view. It's a little blurry, but I know my home when I see it. I frantically scamper to get out of this weather until something stops me. There are footsteps stomping through the rain, as well as voices that soon break out into yelling. I hear what sounds like metal on stone, followed by the unmistakable clash of a fist to the face. It sounds really meaty too, a direct hit that was immediately tailed by another punch and then a kick. My first thought is to assume the usual, and that is just a regular street brawl. They happen all over the city from time to time, typically between rival gang members. My street is no exception, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't spend some nights just sitting in my room watching people beat the crap out of each other on ground level. They were always a blast, but never in the rain. To brawl in the rain was miserable for everyone, especially the spectators since it was nearly impossible to see what was going on half the time.

Another guy hollers, followed by the cry of a woman. I swiftly dart through the downpour when my ears pick up the echo of voices that could only be coming from an alleyway. I see some thugs, their faces distorted and weird, yanking at a civilian and pulling her behind the wall. That's when I realize that this fight isn't just a regular street brawl. Someone is being mugged.

I race to the alleyway, shouting at them to let her go. To my surprise, the woman manages to escape from their clutches, throwing out a fist and knocking one of the thugs out cold. Another one comes up behind her, yet somehow she is able to duck underneath his lunge, delivering a swift kick to his underside and sending him toppling into one of his comrades. She's really giving them a run for their money, but her efforts are soon in vain when she fails to notice one more punk come up behind her with a baseball bat. With all my might, I sprint to her side, my wings thrusting me forward in a single flap.

Before I was struck by the bat, I was struck by the feeling of deja vu. Someday a while ago I had dove across Popstar Comics' carpeted floor to save a tumbling Lucina from hurting herself when she fell from a stepladder. Well, it turns out that I was doing the exact same thing again, only this time instead of protecting her from the fall of gravity, I was saving her from some moron with a demented face.

The bat connects with my forearm, instantly knocking me to the ground. I hear Lucina call out my name, echoed by the strangers as they realize who I am. I bite my tongue to ease the pain and quickly pull myself to my feet, putting out my other arm to protect Lucina.

"Stay behind me," I say to her, but I can barely see her with the rain in my vision. The arm that was struck finds itself retracting close to my body as I pray that the bone hadn't been fractured in any way, but even that was being to optimistic.

"Kuro!" she replies. "What are you—"

"Just stay behind me!"

I glare at the street thugs, the ones that Lucina had knocked down now pulling themselves to their feet. They all bear disgustingly grotesque faces, and now that I get a good look at them, it isn't surprising to see why. All of the punks are wearing paper masks, very similar to the one that Samus had shown us early today. Just like the mask from before, all of these masks have very distinct and exaggerated facial features, such as bug-like eyes, tiny noses, and sinister grinning teeth. Some had mustaches while others had hair in different places. One of them doesn't seem to have any face at all, and is just a blank slate with dots all over it.

The members of MII surround us, backing us up against the wall. Some of them are carrying weapons, like the mustached man with a baseball bat. Others are brandishing small knives, while one more has what appears to be some form of brass knuckles. With the rain coming down so hard, calling for help is impossible.

It looks like we were going to have to settle this the old-fashioned way.

"Back off," I say to the demented creeps. "I'm warning you."

Two of the thugs exchange a glance with one another before one of them speaks up to me.

"Are you Kuro?" the tall man with the baseball bat asks.

For a moment I almost didn't comprehend his question since his voice is all distorted. They must have some kind of voice-changing device under their masks in order to hide their identities. In any case, these bozos have heard of me, which may work in my favor.

"Yes," I reply with a scowl. "And you're on Gerudo turf. Leave now and maybe I'll forget this ever happened."

I was hoping to get to them with the intimidation factor, but unfortunately they don't fall for my bluff. If anything, my response makes them all the more eager to beat Lucina and I to a pulp where we now stood.

"Excellent." The man taps his palm with the bat. "Let's get 'em boys."

I back right into Lucina who looks terrified beyond belief. She grabs hold of me but I refuse to budge from my position as her shield. I've never run away from a fight and I sure as hell wasn't about to now.

"Someone please help us!" she cried.

The sound of rain is immediately overtaken by a revving engine, and the next thing I know someone is shining a powerful headlight down the alleyway, practically blinding all of us in the process. Screeching tires come plowing from the street, zipping past us and bowling over some of the MII punks. Other members dive out of the way from the speeding motorcycle, which nearly crashes into a nearby dumpster. Gracefully, the driver slides into a complete turnaround, pulling up to Lucina and me with a cheeky grin on his face. I recognize him as one of my comrades from the Gerudos.

"Hey Kuro!" he says eagerly. "Long time no see!"

Seeing his chubby face again brings a smile to my face, if not for the fact that he just saved us.

"Wario, you sly bastard," I reply. "I was wondering when you were gonna show up."

"I'm always late to the party; you should know that by now," laughs Wario, his jaw nearly unhinging as he speaks. A small hand punches him on the top of the head as New Smashopolis' resident witch girl climbs into view from behind him.

"More like I told you Kuro was in trouble," says Ashley unenthusiastically, wielding an black umbrella to protect herself and her chauffeur from the rain. "If I didn't say anything you'd still be at the bar playing pinball!"

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Wario casually sticks a finger up his nose to dislodge some yellow gunk. "I almost landed the high score!"

I notice the MII punks getting up yet again, and if I had to guess, I'd say that they weren't very pleased with Wario's driving skills.

"Who the hell are you?" one of them shouts.

Wario takes that as his cue to dismount his motorcycle, and honestly I'm not sure why he does since he looks much more intimidating when he's on it. In reality, he's quite the short and stubby man, complete with a jagged mustache and enough garlic in his breath to knock out a flock of sheep.

"The name's Wario, you shmucks," he says, "and you came to the wrong neighbourhood. Take a hike or I'll slam you so hard, you'll be tasting sidewalk till next Tuesday."

"You should probably listen to him," Ashley chimes. "He'll really mess you up."

The thugs aren't taking his threats very kindly. If anything, it only makes them want to bust our skulls in even more. Funny enough, I'm hoping that they'll actually provoke Wario into attacking them. It's been quite a while since I've seen him go into his berserk mode.

The MII member with the bat leaps forward and swings with full force at Wario. Almost as if he anticipated it, Wario blocks the attack with his large hand, catching the weapon in his grasp. He gives it a squeeze, prying it from the thug and whirling it around while laughing. New weapon in hand, Wario bats the ground a few times, beckoning for his next opponent to step up to the plate.

"Batter up!" he shouts.

The thug charges at him, but it's in vain as Wario smashes the wooden bat across the face of the man. He hits him so hard that the bat breaks in two, and I almost jump out of my skin upon hearing Lucina scream behind me. The MII member hits the pavement, blood pouring from a broken nose and what used to be teeth. Surprisingly, the mask remains on his face, but it merely covers the wreckage of bone beneath it. Seeing their fallen comrade causes the other MIIs to flinch.

"Alright, who's next?" asks Wario casually. "Come on, I don't got all night."

Fortunately, his stunt seems to be enough to scare them off, as one by one they flee like rats on a sinking ship. Two of the members grab their fallen friend and drag him out of the alleyway, although I'm fairly certain that the guy is already dead. The rest of them scatter off into the street, disappearing through the rain without a trace.

"Aw man, I wanted to turn one of them into a toad," Ashley moans. "Oh well, maybe next time."

"Thanks a lot, guys," I say, patting Wario on the back. He returns the gesture by wrapping a gigantic arm around me, but I quickly push him away as a sting shoots through my whole body.

"Thanks? That's not the Kuro I know," replies Wario with a laugh. "Where's the, 'I could have taken them myself,' line I'm so used to hearing?"

He says that last part in a deep and mocking tone, but I kindly ignore it. I'm not about to get into an argument here in the middle of a dark and rainy alleyway.

"Who's the chick?" Ashley asks with a smirk.

Lucina is standing against the wall drenched with her arms wrapped around herself. She looks mortified, and I notice her gaze rapidly switching between myself and Wario.

"Did he…" she stutters. "Did he just kill that man?"

I swipe Ashley's umbrella from her with a sigh and move over to Lucina's position. As expected, Ashley makes another one appear out of thin air, although she doesn't look too pleased with me not sharing it with her. I couldn't care less.

"This is Lucina," I explain. "She's my co-worker."

"Ah, one of us then?" replies Wario with a sickly grin. He waddles over to grab Lucina's hand but she immediately retreats like a stray animal.

"Don't touch me," she snarls.

"Whoa, whoa, easy toots. I just wanted to say hi!"

"She's not with us," I say. "She works at the comic store with me."

At this, Wario glances up at me, somewhat confused and bewildered by my response. I know what he's thinking and I wish I could tell him otherwise, but with Ashley here, lying would just make me look even more like a fool.

"So it's true then," he says. "You really have left the Gerudos."

"I never said that," I reply. "I'm just taking a break right now. Trying out different things, you know? I also need the money."

"As you did last week and the week before that," says Ashley, stepping down from the bike and walking up to us. To my surprise, she doesn't look disappointed at all, but I'm honestly not sure if that's a good sign or a bad sign. "You can stop stalling and come back already."

"Yeah man, we miss you," chimes Wario. "The guys miss you too! We're talkin' late nights, full moons, every cat and her kitten hunting on the prowl! A lot of bad stuff has been going on since you left, Kuro. You saw it yourself tonight."

Rival gangs. It's always the rival gangs. With the Gerudos owning a majority of this part of town, it was only a matter of time before some new blood would come in and try to take over. It explains the attacks, the break-ins, and it honestly wasn't something that we weren't used to, but that was when I regularly roamed these streets at night. Now I'm in bed by eleven in order to make it to work on time the next day and I've simply got no time for turf wars anymore. It's one of the things I gave up when I started working at Popstar Comics, but I already knew than from Day 1.

If that's so then why am I even having this argument?

"You don't need me," I say. "I'm just one guy."

"One guy that can take on ten guys at once and live to tell the tale!" replies Wario. "They still tell of your stories, Kuro! All of us do! We want to see you fighting on our side again. Our boys are working overtime now because you're not here to cover our asses, and now we're starting to see more brawls in the streets than ever before. The Gerudos used to own this town, but now we're hiding from it! That's not how it's supposed to be!"

He's right and for the life of me I wish I could agree with him. Something inside me is holding me back however, even when I notice Ashley hold out her hand for me to accept it. I already got what I came for when I left Popstar Comics today. Who cares if they still need help fixing the store? Who cares that their image might be tarnished after what happened last night? I certainly don't, yet for some reason, I couldn't return to the Gerudos yet. For amidst our conversation is an outsider who up until a few minutes ago did not know anything about my previous life.

Now my secret is out.

"I'm sorry," I say to them. "I… I'm not ready to go back yet. Believe me, I wish there was another way."

"Kuro, _come on_ , forget your stupid job already," says Ashley rolling her eyes. "You've got so much more going for you than pushing boxes all day!"

"It's not about that!" I shout, but I catch myself a moment too late. "I just… I need more time to think about it. It's been a long day for me."

"How do you think we feel?" asks Wario. Almost immediately he shrugs it off and shakes his head. "Bah, whatever man, I'm too tired for this. Do what you gotta do if that's what you want. You're only going to make things worse for yourself in the end."

"Hm?"

"The Grinning Man takes no prisoners." Wario curls his mustache before it pops back into its crooked pattern, hopping back onto his bike and kick-starting the engine. "If you know what's best for you, you'll stay on his good side. Ashley, let's go!"

Ashley pouts but eventually complies with her companion's demands. She's on the backseat of the bike, holding her umbrella above both of their heads.

"See you later, Kuroooo," she says quietly. The exhaust pipe blows a cloudy fog of grime at Lucina and me, and the next thing I know Wario has driven out to the street, vanishing quicker than he had shown up. He doesn't even say goodbye, although I did notice Ashley staring back at us.

Lucina's head hangs low as she continues to hold herself. I notice that she has a few bruises on her face, but realistically both of us looked like complete wrecks between the rain and the rumble.

"Who were those people?" she suddenly asks. Beneath the cover of our umbrella, I'm not sure what to say. My arm is freakin' killing me right now though. I kind of just stand there for a few moments awkwardly wondering if I should bother asking how much of that conversation she was able to pick up.

"Some old friends," I finally mumble. "They get really clingy sometimes."

"So you're…" she hesitates, but I already know what she's going to ask. Surprise, surprise, I'm not the nice guy that you thought I was! "You're a Gerudo?"

Yes, just as the tattoo on my back says I am. I've been a member since after high school, back when the only responsibilities I had were going to sleep during the day and staying up to wreak havoc during the night. I make my own rules, do my own work, and get my own kicks just the way that I and I alone want.

But she doesn't need to know all that.

"Used to be," I reply plainly. "Now I'm just a regular guy working a regular job. Really a step-up, don't you think?"

She frowns at me and my sarcastic comment. I don't know what else I was expecting honestly.

"You're in a gang," she says. "I can't believe this."

"Call it what you want, but I just saved your life. And I'm not one to go around giving out freebies either."

She glares at me and I can tell she doesn't have much of a rebuttal. She's more disgusted by the fact that I have an affiliation to the Gerudos, especially after hearing what Samus had to say about them today. It was as if the moment she found out, all of her thoughts and assumptions about me were completely wiped and replaced with this evil guise that instantly marks me as an enemy.

And here I thought she was someone I could trust. Is it too late to change my mind?

"I'm going home," she says, and just like that, she removes herself from under the umbrella and storms off into the rain. For a moment, I stand there in wonderment, debating whether or not she is serious about leaving. After what happened tonight, you'd think she'd be more careful about walking around the city, yet after a few seconds, she had turned the corner and vanished. Given the current time, it would be incredibly stupid of her to wait for the next bus, only to wait another hour again before finally being dropped off at her home. And that was all assuming no more MII morons were in the area.

Reluctantly, I go after her.

"Hold on!" I say, and I wave her down, raising the dark umbrella over both of our heads. She pushes her matted hair out of her face, but I can't tell if that's rain or sweat trickling down her cheek. "My place is just down the street. You can stay the night if you want."

"Oh?" she replies, but it's just a placeholder to show how uninterested she is in my proposal.

"Look, it's raining, it's dark, and there are freaks with masks running around all over the place. It's too dangerous to wander around here looking for the bus stop all night." I adjust my posture and lift my arm. "Plus, I'm the one with the umbrella."

She ponders on the thought for a few seconds, but it doesn't take her long to come up with a response. If not for her unenthusiastic gaze, I'd probably think that she _wanted_ me to go chasing after her.

"Alright, Kuro, you win," she says. "Lead the way."

We walk back to my apartment which is just another block down the street. We don't say much to each other however, for I know she's still kind of pissed at me for keeping such a big secret from her. What does she care though? It's not like I'm gonna attack her or anything. I've actually been a pretty nice guy to everyone I've met these past few weeks. They're the ones who are lucky for not having to deal with the real me. Because let me tell you, the _real_ Kuro can be pretty nasty when he wants to be. She just better make sure she doesn't cross the line, otherwise she'll really see how much of a _bad guy_ I am.

It saddens me to tell Wario and Ashley off like that, but in the end I'm simply looking out for myself. After what happened last night and now this night as well, me quitting Popstar would only raise suspicion and land me behind bars faster than I can say, "Malicious Intent Institute." That's why, for the time being, I have to remain a loyal employee for as long as I can. At least until all this crap with the MII blows over.

The only problem is they know my face now.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I want to ask you guys what you think of the chapter lengths for this story. I was going through them and noticed that they kind of fluctuate, and it happens pretty often. Some chapters will sit around 2000 to 3000 words, while others get up to 4000 and even 5000 sometimes. I just want to know what a lot of people are comfortable with. Personally, I plan the chapters to have about 3000 words, but that's just in terms of content. When it gets down to the writing, I can't make that accurate of an estimation. On a similar note, is anyone wondering what's going to happen next chapter when Lucina spends the night in Kuro's house? She doesn't seem too happy with him at the end of this chapter. But just as she learned something about him, he's also going to learn something about her come next chapter… DUN DUN DUN!


	10. Lucina

Popstar Comics

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Thanks to SolarEnergy07, flowslikepixelz, MP36PH3S, Cowtits, RecklessBaka, MonkeyBoy, Wassupguy, and Aurawarrior13 for leaving reviews last chapter and hurray for an actual consistent update for once! Not much to say except thanks for reading and I hope you guys enjoy.

* * *

Chapter 9: Lucina

* * *

I jam my keys into the lock and open the door to my apartment, kicking off my shoes as I enter. Lucina trails behind me, although both of us are soaking wet and dripping water all over the place. After handing her a towel from a nearby closet, I make my way to the kitchen, tossing my pay and wallet on the counter before running freezing water over my arm. It still stings, but the numbness starts to kick in pretty quick as I grab a wet cloth and wrap it around my bruising skin. The phone is blinking, and so I quickly reach for it already aware of what is waiting for me on the line.

" _Hey Kuro, it's Falcon. Someone broke into the store last night. Get down here as soon as you—_ "

Message deleted. You have no new messages. Good.

I rummage through the fridge for any source of food, considering it was almost nine and I still haven't eaten yet. As expected, there's not much there, although I do find some leftover chicken and rice. I start pulling stuff out onto the table, wherever I could find room between the magazines, newspapers, and other random junk. I barely notice Lucina staring at me from the hall, still wiping down her hair and clothes.

"Do you… need any help?" she asks.

"No, just go sit over there or something," I reply without making eye contact.

I mean for her to sit at the table but she ends up disappearing from view entirely. Somehow I manage to salvage the rest of the beans, some cheese slices, and that stew from about a week ago. It's not much, but it's enough for two people, and with the rain coming down outside I almost wish we had a real fireplace in here.

I toss the food in the microwave and wander around to look for Lucina. She's still in the hall, gazing at the shrine Pit made for his beloved goddess.

"You can take your shoes off you know," I say, and I'm being serious about it too. Pit hates it when the floor gets dirty, and he's hounded me about it numerous times in the past.

"Oh, right," she says, turning away from the framed picture of Lady Palutena. "Here?"

"Yeah." I stand there awkwardly, unsure of what to do or say. We don't normally have guests on account of our place not being very visually appealing. Pit is pretty good when it comes to tidiness, but anything else that looks out of place, from the shirts hanging over the couch to the stacks of CDs in the corner belongs to me. I'm also the reason why our apartment needs vacuuming twice a week, and why the bathroom door sometimes gets stuck whenever it closes (that was from the hot-glue incident about a year ago, where I had locked myself in the bathroom after Pit insisted on cutting my hair). Even if our apartment was clean, it wouldn't change the fact that it's freakishly small, with only enough rooms to accommodate a single resident. We have one bedroom, one kitchen, one bathroom, one living room, and a main hall to the entrance. There's also a balcony overlooking the street, but it's rarely ever used since our view only consists of the grey and nameless buildings across the street. For laundry, we have to go to the ground floor and put money in, which isn't all that bad since our clothes are almost always washed together anyway.

She glances at the shrine one more time, but I'm not about to explain any of it to her. I would prefer it for Pit to keep his whacky religion to himself.

"Are you hungry?" I finally ask, only because I feel my stomach grumble. "We got some food if you want."

"If you don't mind, that would be great," she replies. "I haven't eaten anything all day."

"Same."

"But can I use your phone first? I need to call my father."

I show her the phone and get back to monitoring the food. Whether she likes it or not, the only phone we have is in the kitchen and corded, and so I can't help but eavesdrop when her dad eventually does pick up on the other end.

"Hello? Yes, it's me. I'm alright, just at a friend's house." She looks over at me, although I can't tell if she's content or indifferent about the current situation. "We got caught in the rain so he invited me over to stay the night. Yeah, remember Kuro? That's him. Yeah, he has a brother I think." She looks to me again and I nod, yet curious as to what kind of question would make her have to answer that. "I'll be okay. No, it's not going to be like that. Oh, you'll never guess what happened to the store last night…"

She proceeds to tell him about the break-in, but she also mentions me and my heroic deeds of rescuing the stolen comics. After bringing that up, her tone starts to get a little defensive, and I love to admit that I already know the reason why.

"Everything's fine, Dad," she says, rubbing the bruise on her cheek. "I don't know if Mr. Dedede will open the store tomorrow, but if not then I'll be home first thing in the morning. Yes, I've still got the bus money. Please don't worry. No, I promise. Okay? I love you too. Bye."

She hangs up the phone and sighs.

"Forget to mention something?" I say, and she knows very well what I'm referring to.

"I don't want him to worry," she replies. "He's already telling me to quit my job after what happened last week. If he finds out about tonight…"

"That's not saying much." My mind immediately goes back to what she said to me after the brawl. "Not only are you hiding from those street thugs, but you're also shacking up with one as well."

She frowns at me, but I refuse to take back my comment.

"I still haven't forgiven you, you know," she says.

I was also expecting that answer, and so gave her the only rebuttal I that needed: "I did nothing wrong."

* * *

We sit down in the kitchen, Lucina in Pit's spot while I take my place near the hall. It's still raining outside, but I raise the blinds anyway just to give myself something to look at. The food turns out better than I would have thought, albeit a little moist from overheating. I'm too hungry to care however, and find myself scarfing it down before I realize I haven't even poured drinks yet.

"So you live here with your brother?" she asks.

I chug down some tap water and wipe my lips with the back of my arm. I'm reluctant to speak about anything after what she said to me, but she's in my home now and in the words of Pit, " _You should treat people the way that you want to be treated!_ "

"Yeah, Pit and myself," I reply. "It looks bigger on the outside."

"Is he working late?"

"Probably. Sometimes he has to work the late shifts, or cover for other people if they're sick or something. If I had to guess, I'd say he's stuck in the rain."

It should come as no surprise that neither Pit nor I have a driver's license, let alone our own vehicle to drive. Thankfully, we never have to travel far from home, and so normally walk whenever we have somewhere we need to go. Pit's alternative is a bicycle, but he's only allowed to use it on the job since it was given to him by Paratroopa Post.

"He's not… you know," she mumbles, averting her gaze from me.

"What?" I say, but I honestly have no idea what she's talking about.

"You know… one of them."

"One of _what_?"

"Your friends I met tonight."

Oh. She means a Gerudo. No, not even close. Pit is the least likely person I'd pick to be a member of any street gang. He's just so perfect in every way, a real goody-toe-shoes as I've called him before. Lucina would probably love him seeing as how she's not too fond of the bad boys.

"No, he's not," I reply dismissively. "He doesn't even know I still talk to them." I suddenly glare at her from across the table. "Don't you say anything to him."

"I don't understand why you even bother with those people." She swirls her rice around with her fork, but she still refuses to look me in the eyes. "You're nothing like them at all."

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

"How would you know?" I say. "You only see me when I'm at work."

"You're different from those gang members though," she explains. "You're not mean. You stand up for what is right. I saw you when you jumped over the counter and chased that boy who stole the comics. You were trying to help everyone." She pauses. "And tonight, if you hadn't shown up when you did, I probably would have…"

Been beaten and robbed and left to rot in the rain, yeah, probably. Like I said before, this city takes on a whole new face after dark. That's why you should always be with someone, even complete strangers so long as you are within shouting distance of nearby people. Never wander off on your own. The police are good, but they're not so good that they can cover every district in the city. Between the west and the east end, we actually got it easier, which leads me to believe that Lucina is used to being home before dinnertime at the very least, when the sun is still in the sky and people are still milling about after hours.

"Believe me, I hate those MIIs just as much as you do," I say. "Anyone would have done it."

"No they wouldn't." Finally she looks at me and she's giving me the same terrified look she did when we were in the alleyway. "There must have been at least five or six of them, yet you were still willing to fight despite the odds! Weren't you scared?"

"Nah. I've been in rougher spots before. I was just trying to protect you."

"Thank you. But this only goes to show that you _are_ different from them then. Even though you are in a gang."

Okay, I can see where this is going. She's confused that I helped her even though I have an affiliation to the Gerudos. What she needs to understand is that the people who I work for don't go around terrorizing civilians, but how much am I willing to disclose without jeopardizing my own reputation?

"I _used_ to be in a gang," I lie, repeating myself from earlier in the evening. "I left them to start a new life for myself, which is how I ended up working at Popstar. They still want me back though, and no matter how many times I tell them, they just can't take no for an answer."

It's a cover-up, but it's all I have considering my situation. So long as I bear the markings, I will always be connected to the Gerudos in one way or another. The problem is I've been known to be one of their best members, if not the best due to my uncanny ability to die and not stay dead. One slip and I could easily wind up behind bars, charged with accounts of trespassing, breaking and entering, disturbing the peace, loitering, stealing, unarmed violence, vandalism, and the list goes on. Talking to the chief of police today was the closest I've ever been to a pair of handcuffs, and frankly, I'd like to keep it that way. So as long as Lucina thinks I'm just a regular guy working a regular job at a comic book store she and I should get along just fine.

Unfortunately, now I got Wario and Ashley believing the same thing.

Lucina's eyes fall back to her plate, and interestingly she doesn't say anything. I can tell that she is still sitting on the fence in figuring out whether or not I am who I say I am.

"Can I ask you something?" I ask all of a sudden. "Why are you worried so much about this? You saw for yourself that the guys I hang out with aren't bad people at all."

"Your friend killed that man though," she replies, as if that's the only evidence she needs to prove that all gangs are the same.

"We don't know that for sure. It was dark and raining. He at least broke his nose, but you're assuming he did that for the thrill of the hunt. You can look at it however you want, but at the end of the day, we saved your life. I doubt any other criminals would bother to do the same."

Her head is low, her eyes filled with distress. She's on the brink of fully understanding where we come from, but something inside her holds her back. It's the same look she gave when we were in the alley, when I had stopped the bat from slamming her skull to the pavement, when Wario had pulled up with his motorcycle in anticipation for a classic street brawl. I've never seen her look so scared before Wario approached her, even without the intention of laying a finger on her. She's labelled us all with the same corrupted name. Gerudo, MII, Villager, everyone is scum as far as she's concerned.

She eventually looks at me again, but her gaze remains still and empty. I was half-expecting her to get up and leave. To my surprise, she begins to tell me a story about her past, of her life before her and her father had moved to New Smashopolis.

"I was born in this city, raised by my mother for the first few years of my life," she says. "When I was around five years old, I found out she had been killed in a car accident with a drunk driver. My father took me in after that, but we left the city not even a month after my mother's passing.

"One night when we were walking home from the store, we were stopped by a group of strangers in the street. They demanded money, said they were homeless, but my father refused to give them anything. He held onto me as we tried to pass, but they refused to let us through." She shuddered. "Then one of them pulled out a gun and pointed it right at me. My father was forced to comply, and so dropped his wallet and everything we had purchased. That wasn't enough for them though. They didn't let us go home without attacking my father and beating him until he was on the ground. I tried to stop them, but I was so afraid and…I just didn't know what to do.

"We called the police later, but they never found them. They simply told us the city was a dangerous place at night and that we were lucky to make it out with our lives. But is that really fair?

"The next day I came home from school to find that our house had been broken into. Money, books, furnishings, even the necklace my mother had given me, everything was gone. The same gang had followed us home, determined when the house would be empty, and planned their attack as such. I never felt so betrayed by humanity, but my father was indifferent. He kept on smiling, and said he was grateful that I was alive. He told me not to cry, and to always believe in the goodness of others. So we left the city and moved to Ylisse, where it's mostly farmland and fields, away from all the strife and people. That's where I spent most of my life growing up until my father had received a call about a job opening in New Smashopolis, and so we returned." She closes her eyes. "All this time I was hoping that this city would finally be different from what it was when I was young. But nothing has changed."

Well, she's right about one thing, and that this town certainly does have a problem with its crime levels. I can't help but feel bad for her however, since on the outside she comes off as a normally optimistic girl without any of the sob-stories. I wasn't aware that her mother had died, but I'm also impressed she decided to come back after her dreaded experience with burglars. Suddenly her distaste towards me and my companions makes a lot more sense. Even so, she still refuses to believe that I am one of these criminals, these "homeless people" that attacked her and her dad on these very streets all those years ago.

"I… I'm sorry to hear that," I say seriously. "About your mom I mean."

"It's okay," she replies. "I was young when it happened. She still visits me in my dreams every now and then. It's all in the past." She pushes her plate away and stands up. "Thank you for dinner, Kuro. I'm sorry for imposing on you like this."

"Hey, Lucina."

I don't know why I said anything. Honestly, I should have just let her leave so we could be over with this discussion, since it was starting to make me uncomfortable. I'm sympathetic for her however, for her to lose so much in such a short time and still have the urge to go on living. She and I are more alike than I thought.

"Yes?" she says, turning to face me.

"Listen. You can judge me however you want and call me whatever you see fit. But know this: I will never _ever_ do anything to hurt you. That I can promise for sure."

A small smile inches across her face, the first I have seen from her in the entire evening.

"Thank you," she replies. "You don't know how much it means to me hearing you say that."

She sits back down and the rest of the dinner concludes with us exchanging more stories with each other. She tells me about Ylisse, and how she had taken up many sports in order to help her become stronger at self-defence. It explains how she was able to take down a couple of those MII members despite her harmless appearance. It's also interesting to note that she is an experienced fencer, and has been practicing her skills with a sword ever since she was young.

As for me, I mention that I currently have nothing going for me in life. I have no aspirations, no imminent goal for where I want to be within the next five years. I'm still trying to figure out how to go from one day to the next without accidentally blowing my cover. She's content with the thought that I plan on staying with Popstar Comics for now, but for how long I honestly have no idea. I think she's just happy being able to talk to me without our jobs being on the line for once.

* * *

Our room is on the third floor, so normally I take the stairs to get around since I can't be bothered to wait for the elevator. Anyway, it's a great time to do laundry with it being as late as it is. Normally I'm not on the ground level unless Pit asks me to do something, but with Lucina staying the night, I'm without much of a choice but to get our clothes dried after the massive soaking they took outside. The rain hasn't let up either, and so I find myself counting the seconds between thunderbolts as I toss a ball against the mouldy wall.

She's taking a shower upstairs, and I'll be doing the same in another ten minutes or so. I wanted to wash down my arm in hopes that it would help with the healing, but apparently that's not necessary as it's feeling a lot better now. One of the perks of being an angel is having rapid healing powers compared to that of regular humans, along with the immortality, the wings, and the oh so snobby attitude. She asked me about my arm earlier, but surprise surprise, that dude didn't hit me as hard as I thought he did (or so I told her). I'm okay with telling her about work or my past, but anything related to my species is completely off limits. I don't even talk to Pit about this kind of stuff.

Lucina is an interesting one. She has a kind of innocence about her that I frankly have not seen in my other co-workers. She believes that I'm not as bad as I say I am, and that was pretty much reinforced after our conversation at dinner. Our talks are very similar to that of Pit and myself, only these ones don't end with me throwing a tantrum and slamming doors. I think I just prefer her subtleness compared to Pit's insistency, which makes her come off more as someone who wants to help rather than someone who just wants me to change. That's kind of how Pit has always treated me, like a kid who still needs to grow up. I hate it.

The clothes eventually finish and I toss them in the basket. I never noticed how small Lucina's shirt is until it's in the pile next to my own. She somehow managed to get her hands on one of the Popstar-branded t-shirts, something that I have yet to receive despite my seniority over her.

As I make my way up the stairs, I hear a shrill scream coming from the third floor. It's definitely Lucina, much like the scream I had heard from her when we encountered the Malicious Intent Institute. After hearing her story about the criminals who had followed her and her father home, is it possible that the same thing is happening again? Needless to say the very thought infuriates me, especially since this is my turf they're trespassing on. Swiftly, I bolt up the stairs, skipping every other step along the way as I call out her name.


	11. Black and White

Popstar Comics

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Another late update, another shameful excuse for my tardiness. It can be hard for me to feel inspired about writing this story since every time I start a new chapter I have to recap on everything that's been going on in the plot so far. It's only been 10 chapters, but damn, there's quite a lot happening in this fic. I've had to reread everything in order to remember a lot of stuff, so hopefully I don't forget anything. I'll be going through the previous chapters and polishing them up later, but I won't be adding anything of plot significance. Anyway, enough rambling from me, here's chapter 10.

* * *

Chapter 10: Black and White

* * *

I never thought I'd be defending myself from a home invasion. You hear about it on the news all the time, mostly with older folks who are either physically or mentally incapable of fending off their attackers. Regardless, you'd have to be crazy to break into the house of an able-bodied young male, especially one with a reputation for being immortal. And in an apartment complex with less than four floors, someone was bound to hear you come in, and let me tell you if you mess with one resident, then you've messed with all of them.

Other people who heard Lucina's scream open up their doors, staring at one another and wondering what the hell is going on. They see me too, gunning it up the stairs faster than the elevator could move. In all my years of living here I never took the chance to learn any of their names, but they all know me as that black-winged angel boy who always stays out until after curfew. They were also under the impression that my involvement with something normally meant bad news. It's a pretty good assumption; I'll give them that.

I reach for the knob and shove into the room, raising my fist to bring down the first punk in my way. To my surprise, the hall is empty, and I would have thought the entire apartment was too had a certain pansy numbskull not come flailing through my field of view.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Pit squeals as he stampedes across the living room, a white towel wrapped over his eyes. He collides with the couch, flipping over it and landing on his back on the other side.

If this were any other situation, I probably would have laughed my ass off, but his crazy stunt just left me more confused if anything.

"What the hell is going on in here!?" I shout as I storm over to Pit and yank the towel off his head, revealing a beet red face.

"Gah! D-Dark?" he replies frantically. "Oh thank heavens! I thought I walked into the wrong room!" He pulls himself up, a few feathers dropping from him in the chaos.

"What are you talking about?"

"There's someone in the bathroom using our shower! I thought it was you, but when I knocked you didn't answer, so I opened the door and…" He stopped mid-sentence, a sudden realization dawning on him. "Oh my gosh! I just saw a naked girl! Lady Palutena will never forgive me for this!"

He immediately drops the conversation and dashes to the shrine in the hall, falling to his knees to beg his goddess for forgiveness. As you were probably suspecting, I'm not surprised in the slightest. His reaction is amusing to say the least.

It turns out that Pit had accidentally stumbled upon Lucina in the shower expecting me to be the only one home. This is normally the case on practically any other day of the year; however, I made the mistake of inviting Lucina as a last-minute decision. He wasn't expecting anyone to be over, and he certainly wasn't expecting to see a stranger in the nude. Palutena would probably give him forty lashes for that one.

I notice Lucina suddenly creep up next to me, dressed in the large black t-shirt and shorts that I had given her after dinner. They're just some extra hand-me-downs that I had found in my closet, a little too big for the likes of Pit or myself, but they will do until I retrieve the clothes that I had absentmindedly left on the bottom floor. She's looking much better now, although she fails to hide the embarrassment on her face.

"I'm sorry," she says. "It was totally an accident."

"I figured," I reply, "but it's fine. It's not every day I get to see him like this."

In the midst of Pit's groveling, a few neighbors from the lower floors poke their heads in curiously. Upon noticing Pit however, most of them are just weirded out. I kindly explain to them what happened (in other words I tell them to get lost) and fortunately it's enough to disperse them back to their rooms for the night. I'm expecting a few of them to question me about it though if I just so happen to run into one of them again tomorrow.

Pit ended up praying to his goddess for over five minutes before finally getting off the ground so that I could explain the situation. The rain hadn't let up at all since we arrived, and it was showing on him through his hair and uniform. When he did eventually realize that Lucina was no stranger, his attitude did a complete one-eighty, and the next thing I knew both Lucina and I were seated in the living room while Pit had run into the kitchen to boil some tea. I had to admit that it was a nice thought considering it was still pouring rain outside.

"How silly of me!" he says as he hands us our cups. "I should have known that you were one of my brother's co-workers. He talks about you all the time!"

"He does?" replies Lucina curiously as her eyes glance over at me. I twiddle my thumbs as Pit fills my teacup, distracted and somewhat jealous of his hospitality skills.

"Yeah! You're Falcon, right?"

Of all my co-workers, Lucina is the one that I have never once mentioned to Pit. I didn't even tell him about the managerial position that Dedede so kindly bestowed upon me, but in hindsight, that whole thing was a joke. Lucina and I are practically equal in terms of rank.

"Her name's Lucina and she's new at the store," I explain awkwardly. "She's the partner that they assigned to me."

"Don't sound too excited there," she jokes. "You might accidentally cock a smile."

"It sure sounds like you've gotten used to him," says Pit. "I'm just glad that Dark has a friend there now. I think he was getting kind of lonely at the comic store."

I glare at him, just like all the other times when he talks about me like I'm a child. I want to say something in retaliation, but for some reason, I can't. If it were just him and me one on one, he'd probably be left crying in the corner by now, but with Lucina here I'm forced to watch my tongue.

"By the way," says Pit sheepishly, "I'm sorry about what happened earlier. I wasn't trying to…you know."

"Oh no, it's okay," replies Lucina.

"Yeah, I just wasn't expecting anyone else to be here. We don't get visitors very often."

"Can we not talk about it."

"O-Oh yes, of course! Sorry."

His attempt at rectifying his clumsy mistake makes me cringe, but I remain a blank slate. I'm more impressed that Lucina decided to stay here after being caught in the nude like that. Then again, I still have her clothes in my possession, clumped in a calamity of fabric just down the hall in a broken laundry basket.

There's some more mindless chatter to follow this, but half of it I miss due to my constant zoning out. My head's feeling a little fuzzy, likely aftershocks from all of the excitement from today. Funny enough, I get to relive the events of the morning, listening to Lucina talk about the robbery last night, followed by the resulting crime scene this morning. Needless to say, Pit is shocked, but still as confused as we were when we discovered that nothing in the store had been stolen. He's eating everything up word for word, and when she gets to the part about the Malicious Intent Institute, he practically hops from his seat to rummage through our recycling bin.

"They were in the paper a few days ago," he exclaims. "They must have been the ones responsible for the break-ins from last week!"

"That's what the police chief told us," replies Lucina. "They've been trying to track them down, but in the meantime, they've told us to be careful if we're outside after dark."

She looks at me while Pit skims over the article in the paper, a worrisome glance that appears to ask if it's okay to mention what happened tonight. I sternly shake my head without saying a word. The last thing I need is for Pit to worry about me again, and I'll be damned if I was going to go through another monotonous lecture about personal safety.

"I wonder why they've suddenly started appearing," mutters Pit. "We've never had a problem around here like this before."

I can probably answer his question, but again, I remain silent. Up until a few months ago, the Gerudos were the most powerful gang in this neighborhood. Unlike the MII however, they didn't go around terrorizing civilians for pleasure. They are an organization—a business if you will—that deals with the production and exchange of electronic devices and equipment. They aren't drug lords or weapons manufacturers by any means. In fact, they have quite a docile reputation, being an organization that stays out of your way so long as you stay out of theirs. They sound cooperative enough, but there is one catch. All of the products that they handle are produced, used, and sold on the black market. We're talking lockpicking devices, surveillance equipment, and duplicate credit cards just to name a few, and I'm not even mentioning the _really_ good stuff.

That's just the tip of the iceberg, though. There's another side to the Gerudos; a side that aims to control the city, and so far they've succeeded by claiming the west end as their territory. If you pledge allegiance to their cause, they are more than happy to let you borrow some men, maybe to keep the Villagers off your humble booth in Station Square for a day or two. Most people don't care for it, however, and would much rather continue going about in their usual lives as if this were any other major city in the world. Those who sought help from the Gerudos normally did so in secrecy to protect their names. This was my job at one point, acting as a sort of vigilante so long as the pay was good. Most of the time I just enforced the rules. I kept every other gang in the area in check, while at the same time making friends with people who wished to be under the strict umbrella of the Gerudos. Sure the risk factor was high, but nothing could ever beat the thrill nor the freedom of going out for a night of prowling.

My absence has brought more problems to the group than I thought, however, for now rival gangs have started popping up all over the city. Names come and go like the wind, but the Malicious Intent Institute has proven to be one of the most annoying and dangerous gangs in the district. The fact that all of their members are anonymous is what makes them a threat, and although they don't look so tough on their own, tonight certainly taught me that they could be devastating in packs.

As a member of Gerudo, it's my job to investigate this terrorist group and somehow put a stop to them. That might have been a no-brainer for the Kuro from two weeks ago, but with the police and now Popstar Comics involved as well, I can't afford to make any rash decisions.

Lucina and Pit continue to talk about the MII thing, but neither of them can hit the nail on the head. Pit's theory is that the rising rate of unemployment has caused some people to turn to crime, thus resulting in the sudden influx of street gangs. It's not a bad guess, but he forgets that the Malicious Intent Institute doesn't have any form of income (not as far as we know at least). Lucina is convinced that similarly, they are composed of homeless people who had no choice in the matter, but I already know that she has some issues that dig far back to her roots. It's kind of funny seeing them talk like this, for Pit is able to carry a conversation much better than I can. His overly friendly aura has already rubbed off on her. It's also weird for me to see Pit so engaged in something that isn't his religion. Normally our discussions end with one of us yelling at the other, but here in the living room he was talking and acting like a completely regular person.

"You know, I think I know you from somewhere," Lucina says to my brother. "You work for Paratroopa Post, right?"

Pit's eyes seemed to light up at the mention of his workplace. I take it he rarely ever got to talk about it since I sure as hell am not interested.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do!" exclaims Pit excitedly. "I'm one of the paperboys in this city. Nevermind the name though since I don't actually deliver the papers around here. I just handle the mail." He pauses momentarily before adding, "Why, have you seen me?"

"You delivered mail to my house last week. You saw me on my doorstep, remember?"

It took Pit a few seconds to recall this supposed event in which he and Lucina exchanged a few words one morning. I suspect that to have taken place just before I met her, seeing as how she recognized my face through him. But really, how easy can it be to forget an encounter with someone with blue hair?

"Oh yeah, now I remember!" says Pit. "You asked me where you could find the comic book store."

Indeed she did, and for good reason too since she's still relatively new to this area. She may have been born here, but that was long before the city had expanded its borders to the western side. With her coming from the east, it's no wonder she had a hard time locating Popstar.

"I still have the map you drew for me," she says. "If it weren't for you, I probably wouldn't have been able to meet Kuro."

At the mention of my name, Pit nearly drops his cup, hacking and choking like something out of a cartoon show. I hold my ground.

"What did you say?" he asks as if he misheard her. His happy-go-lucky demeanor suddenly vanishes, as if Lucina had done something dreadful like use Palutena's name in vain.

Lucina is taken aback by his question but calmly reiterates thinking that it's merely a misunderstanding.

"I said that if I never met you, I probably wouldn't have been able to meet your brother."

"No, just now. What did you call him just now?"

And here it comes.

"What? Kuro?"

I can already feel the tension between us. Should I say something to defend myself? Probably. But there's not much for me to say.

"You said you were done with that, Dark," he says to me. "We've been over this!"

I maintain eye contact with him, but I can tell that Lucina is confused.

"I _am_ done," I reply sternly. "I haven't looked back since I started working at that damned comic book store."

"You can't get over it, can you? You're still obsessed with that…that…street gang!"

Pit knows about my past. He's lived through it with me, but unlike me, he despised every moment of it. He hated the person that I had become, unwilling to take care of myself, wishing for me to be a productive member of society. He knows the name they had given me, and for him, it will forever be a curse, an unholy sin to never be reconciled. To my brother, Kuro is poisonous.

I hesitate to respond, the definite answer I want to give dangling on the tip of my tongue. I want to tell him I'm going back. I want to say forget Popstar Comics. I want to be free, to walk down those streets and not be a stranger to everyone. I want to find the thugs that attacked Lucina and take out their leader with my own two fists. I want everything that I've given up, but I can't bring myself to say it. I can't say it so long as we're not alone.

"He's changed."

I open my eyes, surprised that it was not Pit, but Lucina who had spoken. She stares directly at him as if to take the blunt of the blame for my actions. We're suddenly standing the alleyway again amidst a thunderstorm, my back against the wall while she stands before me, protecting me from the thugs that approach us from every direction. She looks at me and smiles in reassurance.

"Huh?" Pit mutters, but he barely has time to say anything before Lucina interjects.

"I may not have known him for long, but I can tell you right now that Kuro is not who you think he is. He has proven to me time and time again that his heart is in the right place. Last week, he saved Popstar Comics from being robbed. He tracked down the thief himself and returned the stolen books faster than the police could start their investigation. Tonight…" She paused. "Tonight, he offered me a place to stay so that I didn't have to walk home in the rain. Most importantly, he told me that he quit the Gerudos so that he could continue working at Popstar Comics. Isn't that right, Kuro?"

Her eyes meet mine for a brief moment, but for lack of a better word, I'm speechless. I can't remember the last time someone stood up for me, let alone against my own brother. There's an aching pain in my heart that won't go away, and the harder I try to suppress it, the more I feel like crying. After all the crap that's been going on this past week, Lucina was always there to support me regardless of my position. She doesn't like me for my wings, my powers, or my reputation. She likes me for who I am, the exact line that was fed to me when I first joined the Gerudos. Only, her compassion feels more genuine.

I can't turn my back on her now.

"That's right," I choke before quickly gathering my composure. "I've kept my name because I like the way it sounds; that's all there is to it. There's no gang tied to it either. I'm not working for the Gerudos anymore."

Now it's Pit's turn for bewilderment. I'm not sure what it is, but something about going with Lucina just seems right to me. Am I going to give up the friends that I already made all these years? Hell no. In fact, I don't plan on permanently retiring from the gang. I'll keep my foot in the door; that's kind of how things usually went with them anyway. I'm more concerned with Pit since I know how much he loathes my affiliation with them. If I can keep all parties happy by the end of the night, then I'd say I did my good deed for the day.

"Is it true?" he asks hopefully. "Did you really quit?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die," I say.

At that, Pit nearly leaps from his seat in joy. The grin on his face is irreplaceable, driving him to the point where he can't stop laughing. I hate to admit he makes me smirk as well, and as for Lucina well, let's just say she's glad we're not fighting anymore.

"This is great news!" Pit cheers. "I can hardly believe it!"

I'm unable to react in time to his arms around me and the next thing I know we're both on the floor, him squeezing tightly while I try to pry him off my chest.

"Let go of me you idiot!" I shout.

"You've made me so happy!" he keeps saying. "I'm so glad for you, Dark!"

It bothers me that Lucina is watching us wrestle, and so I eventually manage to kick that crybaby off of me. Pit is back to being is old jovial self again, blurting about how he can't wait for me to get started back at Popstar Comics. He sees this as an opportunity to shove more potential responsibilities onto me since this change comes off as a sign of me "maturing as an adult." I detest how he talks about me in front of Lucina though, making me sound like I'm a useless kid rather than a freethinking individual.

"Mom and Dad would be so proud," he says to me, and for a second I notice a tear in his eye. He's doing that thing again, but thankfully he manages to distract himself this time. "I'll go put on some more tea. Be right back!"

He gets up and returns to the kitchen, all while humming some happy tune. I've never seen him so excited for me before, but I can't complain. As wimpy as he is, I admit that these kinds of conversations are much more pleasant compared to our usual ones.

"Thank you," I say quietly, "for that."

"It's no problem at all," replies Lucina warmly. "I wanted to pay you back."

She reiterated to Pit what I had already told her, which is what I ended up spewing when I was put on the spot with Ashley and Wario earlier. Now everyone thinks I've given up on the Gerudos, left to pursue a life of stacking comic book boxes. I can't abandon it entirely.

I find myself torn between two sides. On the one hand, I can choose to live a life of freedom, at the expense of working a dishonorable career that could land me a spot in prison. On the other hand, I can live the average man's life, working a normal job with normal people, and making a normal living for myself. Is this really what I want?

No. But it is something I can use.

"I think you've made the right decision," Lucina says to me. "You'll be much happier this way."

"You think so?" I respond. I'm not so convinced, to be honest.

"Trust me. Give it a few months at least. Maybe you'll start to see a difference."

A difference in what? My behavior? Or perhaps she was talking about my environment? For some reason, I can't help but doubt that Popstar Comics has anything to offer me in terms of experience. And I'm not talking about work experience either. I'm talking about life. How can walking into the same building to greet the same wave of lousy customers every day be anything but a pathetic excuse for a career? The experience I get from working there is nothing compared to what I take from life in the city. On the streets, every day is a new adventure where not one person you meet is the same, and people can be whatever they want to be. At Popstar Comics, I just feel like I'm at the helm of the S.S. Nerd, and the people who frequent that place might as well be paper-eating zombies.

"You're still not sure?" Lucina extends a hand to me just like on the day we first met. "Let's make a promise to each other. Four months from now, if either one of us is unhappy with our jobs, then we'll quit. Sound fair?"

It's a hard bargain. However, I can tell that she's set the bar high to help me to overcome my stubbornness. I don't understand why she puts her job on the line, though.

"Sounds a little too easy for you if you ask me," I say. "You love working for Popstar."

"You said so yourself; I'm new. And things change. Isn't that the whole reason why we're having this discussion?"

Her confident gaze makes me hesitate, but shedoesn't do it because she has nothing to lose. No, as a matter of fact, she has much more to lose than I do if she were to quit. It's a risky gamble, but a gamble worth taking for those who are used to walking the tightrope of life. She's willing to surrender everything more than I ever was. Perhaps that's what inspires me to shake her hand.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Thanks a lot to my readers and reviewers, including CowTits the Udderly Glorious, MP36PH3S, SolarEnergy07, and stwome. Again, sorry for the late update. Stay tuned for the next exciting issue of Popstar Comics!


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